When it Rains
by Shiore-Hikaru
Summary: A near death experience and being saved by his knight in black and kevlar armor has the Joker rethinking his creed to get the Bat to kill him. As the two spend some quality time together he can't help but question if his obsession is his form of love. Even if it is love, can the Clown Prince of Crime get the Batman to say those 3 words that his cold heart is longing to hear?
1. Chapter 1: Irony

**_Author's Note: With all honesty I know that this pairing would never work. Though Joker says some rather suggestive dialogue sometimes I know he's just messing. I can see why people would think though, how they have this back and forth relationship as they fight throughout Gotham. Chaos and order colliding each man refusing to yield from their cause and creed. You can't have one without the other they in a way complete each other. Recently though I've read countless of fanfics weaving tales of Batman and Joker's possible romance. I don't know why but I've been hooked and found some of them to be really good. I have a new opinion of this ship, but again with all honesty they are so not good for each other. But who cares if it's not cannon right, let the ship sail. Anywho has some references to the "The Killing Joke", "Death in the Family", and some other media like the animated movies and such you know inspiration for these iconic characters. As much as I love Heath Ledger's Joker from "The Dark Knight" this is more based on the old school Joker I grew up with. Obviously I do not own any of the characters mentioned they are property of DC comics and also don't hate if you're not into these sorts of things I just wanted to do this for fun so I don't need any of your negativity. Please I would appreciate any comments or feedback I can take criticism but not just random hate okay let's be nice this is my first JokerxBatman fanfic. Tell me what you think if you want me to keep it this going. (Side note: that whole deal with Two Face's coin idea I got from a funny comic, I don't really know if coin flipping is 50-50 odds or not but I can imagine he would go bonkers if it wasn't)_**

* * *

The Joker staggered away from the bank slipping past the police that already surrounded the area. He managed to slink by unnoticed and bleeding profusely from a bullet wound near his abdomen. That's what he gets for turning his back on old Gruesome Face. And this was certainly the last time he'd help him escape Arkham, that's if he would ever live to see that dreadful place again. He silently cursed himself as he limped for agreeing to aid his escape and bank heist, but hell it's not like he had any crazy schemes himself tonight. Maybe he was getting dare he say "soft" as the years past. HA! The notion made him almost trip as he began to smile. He chuckled softly remembering how exactly he got himself in this predicament in the first place. After the two escaped and gathered some thugs to help with the job, they all made quick work of the bank. The Joker would obviously get a cut; he never liked doing these sorts of things just for money though. But hey he considered it as Harvey's gift to help finance a future scheme. With more theatrics and where Joker himself was the main attraction. But anyway, as the hired hands quickly emptied out the vault Joker remembered reading an article about coin flipping. He remembered reading that statistics showed that flipping a coin was not entirely "50-50" but more rather "49-51" odds. He shared this little tidbit info with the ex-district attorney to rock his little world. And much to the Joker's expectations it did, but much to the Joker's surprise the man grew violent and shot the clown in the stomach. As the sound of sirens filled the air everyone made a dash to escape leaving Joker to bleed to death.

Luckily the bullet didn't hit any organs or any arteries, but this didn't mean this clown was out of the woods yet. With every step, with every breath, with every weak laugh from remembering how mad both faces glared at him made the Joker wince a bit. There was no denying there was some pain to this, but in his mind he kept reminding himself that he's endured much worse. From weekly electroshock therapy, on and off again beatings from the guards and of course getting beat an inch of his life by his favorite flying rodent, this was cake – right? Well not exactly, the Caliph of Clowns started to grow weary from so much blood loss. He had to stop, just for a moment. He leaned against the alleyway's brick wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground. Joker pressed onto his wound, breathing hard and sweating from exhaustion. He looked at the dark yet light polluted sky above Gotham and began to wonder why he had run away in the first place. Where was the clown even heading to? Let's face it no doctor in Gotham was crazy enough or cared really to help the Harlequin of Hate. They probably let him bleed to death and lie by stating they've done all they could. He was just a mad dog and if he was idiotic enough to think these "people" wanted save him then he would laugh when instead they would simply leave him to die. But then why did he leave the scene? Well he couldn't bear letting HIM see The Clown Prince of Crime shot by the hand of a two bit and "two-face" lesser criminal. The clown began to laugh softly as his own pun. But no, he couldn't let the Bats see him like this. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. No not like THIS! Their epic dance over the corpse lined streets, fiery buildings and bloodied rooftops of Gotham was supposed to end in one way. With Batman holding his lifeless shell under the pale moonlight, a broken man because he broke his one rule. He was the one the Joker bestowed the honor of killing him, his equal and his other half. Such tragedy befell the usually comedic clown as he realized that his dream would never come to pass.

Just then, as if almost on cue, the dark skies began to let up with a down pour of rain. A smile spread across the clown's lips at how ironic the situation seemed, like a scene being ripped out of some corny sob film. As darkness clouded his eyes and he allowed himself to drift effortlessly for once into sleep, he felt the cold touch as the rain hit his aching body. His thoughts raced before turning to nothing, his thoughts of his beloved and favorite flying mammal… the Batman.


	2. Chapter 2: House Guest

**_Author's Note: Well glad to be getting some positive feedback. Now I'm honestly nervous that I'll let you guys down or disappoint. I honestly took up this project for fun and as practice since I'm trying to develop some OCs that are similar to Batman and Joker in some of their personalities and beliefs. But anyway, just to let you know this will have some sexual content you know male on male stuff but not at first. Most of the fanfics I've read tend to just jump the gun into the sex and I'm not hating or anything I just want my interpretation of their relationship to build up and as realistically possible get to that point. Well hope you enjoy just wanted to get that out of the way._**

* * *

As soon as the police surrounded the area, Gotham's caped crusader had already swooped past their barricade and apprehended Two Face and his thugs. This heist was shoddy and last minute, as expected from someone who had just escaped Arkham and desperate for money. Batman was content with his victory over the ex-district attorney but there was still work to be done. Word on the street is that Two Face's escape was aided by none other than the Joker. That madman was still loose and it was Batman's duty to bring him back to Arkham. Before the Dark Knight left the scene he stepped in something wet. He looked down and saw a puddle of blood. How did he not notice this before?! None of the hostages were injured and he had only knocked a few heads but not causing any damage to Two Face or the goons that would make them bleed this much. Someone was hurt and somehow managed to walk out towards the back exit. Batman quickly followed the trail and stormed out the back door. Thunder crashed against the now black ink sky as heavy rain began to fall. This was bad, he had to find whoever had left the blood trail before the rain washed it away and before it is too late. It has always been his duty to protect the innocent and uphold justice. There was no way he was going to let someone die on his watch. He began to hear some clatter from trash cans in the alley up ahead; he ran faster causing his cape to flutter frantically with his hurried movement. Once he came into the darkness of the alleyway he couldn't believe what his blue eyes gazed upon.

There, just a few feet away from him, laid the Joker. He was bleeding from a wound near his stomach, unconscious against the brick wall. The rain had soaked his expensive purple suit and pale skin that seemed even whiter under the moon's light. The clown wasn't moving; Batman immediately went to the clown and checked his pulse. It was weak and his chest was moving shallowly with each strained breath. Almost instinctively Batman grabbed the Joker and carried him in his arms. He had to hurry time was running out. The detective pressed on a button on his belt that turned the Batmobile on and pinpointed his location to drive rapidly to him. He began to walk out of the alleyway and to the street to meet his car. The Joker was shivering and shaking in his arms, he'd never seen the clown this vulnerable before. As soon as the car pulled up and the hull opened up he placed the jester inside and buckled the seatbelt. He jumped inside and drove off in a hurry. He turned on the communicator in order to reach his faithful butler Alfred.

"Alfred, I need you to get the cave ready: medical supplies, blankets, anything you'll require to treat a gunshot wound," ordered Bruce.

_"Is everything all right sir? You're not hurt are you?!"_ questioned calmly Alfred but still showing his concern for his master.

"It's not me who's injured. You won't believe me if I told you."

_"Master Bruce, I hear of the daredevil acts you are prone of committing. I have seen you jump from skyscrapers, solve seemingly impossible cases and fight against forces beyond the limits of a mere man, I think I can handle whatever it is,"_ Alfred responded sardonically.

"The Joker was shot and I'm bringing him to the cave," replied Bruce with a sigh. At this point he was just waiting for Alfred to argue back. The statement was crazy after all.

_"Sir, are you insane!? I don't believe what I am hearing, did you say you're bringing the madman here?!"_ he responded in disbelief.

"Please Alfred I don't have time to argue. Just do as I say I'll be at the cave in ten minutes," demanded Bruce not wanting to argue anymore.

_"Of course Master Bruce, I sure do hope you know what you're doing,"_ said the butler in defeat as he cut off the conversation feed to do as he was instructed.

The minutes seemed to pass like hours but time was slipping rapidly past Bruce's fingers like grains of sand, the Joker didn't have a lot of time left. He had to remain calm; doubting himself now could cause the clown his life. Though the clown annoyed and has caused irreversible harm to him, he had to admit the Joker never doubted himself. He did things with finesse and confidence, where Bruce only worried and held his fears even as Batman. He secretly envied the Joker to some extent, if only that man could use those qualities for good instead of causing all of Gotham death and grief. There was an eerie silence in the Batmobile, the only sounds resonating in his ears was the low roar of the engine, the pitter-patter of the rain as it hit the windshield and the madman's shallow and burdened breathing; but even that was almost mute. The Clown Prince of Crime was never this silent; the only way he knew how to shut the deranged man up was to knock his lights out. But even then Joker would still mutter incoherently and smile in his unconscious state. Not this time though, he was dead quiet and his ruby lips were formed to an almost peaceful expression instead of his trademark and creepy grin. He merely gripped the wheel and concentrated on the wet road, time was fading quickly just like the distant sound of thunder.

* * *

The Batmobile raced through the secret entrance of the Batcave and came to a fast but smooth stop. The hull opened and Bruce unbuckled the Joker's seatbelt. He jumped out and carefully carried the clown from his place. Alfred stood aghast but attentively as he waited for his master.

"Did you get what I asked Alfred?" questioned Bruce straight away as he headed for the medical table where Alfred normally treats the Dark Knight's wounds.

"As you requested sir, I've prepared for the clown's arrival," responded Alfred not hiding his objections from before.

Bruce laid Joker on top of the table and removed his gloves, cowl and cape so he could aid his butler more efficiently. Meanwhile, Alfred began to strip the madman from his stained and wet coat, vest and shirt. Once he shed his top clothing and revealed skin, the butler let out an audible gasp. Bruce immediately turned his attention to them and saw what exactly left Alfred stunned. The Joker's pale, white skin displayed an array of marks and sickly bruises. Had he done all these to him?! No, he couldn't have. He admitted that he roughed up the jester and used excessive force from time to time but these scars and marks were from regular abuse, he hadn't touched Joker in a month since his last escape. Bruce pulled himself together once Alfred began laying out supplies, and placing on oxygen mask on the clown.

"Do you need help?" asked Bruce.

"No, I have a handle on the situation, Master Bruce. From what I can see the bullet made a clean exit and nothing major was hit since he's managed to hang on this long," replied the butler in calm demeanor as he worked. "You should get out of that armor and rest while I attend to our new 'house guest'."

That sounded so good right now; recently Batman has been pulling later than usual nights and longer, boring meetings as Bruce during the day getting little to no sleep for a week. It was mostly because he was searching for Two Face and Joker for the past few days. He seemed lucky to catch them so quickly and without people getting hurt. The Joker wasn't so lucky; Bruce began to assume that the Joker and Two Face's partnership ended in a bad note. The Joker never did play nice with others, probably crossed some line with Two Face and got a bullet as an award. Why did he have to make everything so hard on himself?

* * *

After what seemed like hours Bruce woke up from his slumber. He took up Alfred's suggestion and now felt rested. Once he rose from the bed he kept at the far corner of the cave to take breaks, he immediately made his way to the medical area to check on Alfred and the Joker. As soon as he got there he saw that Alfred had moved the pale clown to a more comfortable bed. The Joker was resting underneath a thick, light blue blanket and an intravenous drip beside the bed. The butler acknowledged his master with a rather tired gaze as he collected his supplies and set them inside a bag. "Sleep well?" was all he said.

"Yeah, you should take it easy now, I'll keep watch now. He wasn't any trouble was he?" asked Bruce.

"Not at all, he was as quiet as a cadaver," he said simply. Bruce remained silent at the butler's rather scornful comment. "I couldn't find attire suitable for our guest. Rather odd figure he has."

"Well maybe later you can run to the store and get him something that'll fit. I think he's about 6'4."

"Goodness he's two inches taller than you, I had almost assumed he was a lot shorter since he's such a rather skinny fellow," replied Alfred with skepticism.

"I learned a long time ago never to underestimate him; you always expect the unexpected with this guy."

"Well I'll fetch him some clothes that fit, later on while I'm doing the errands," said Alfred as he went upstairs to the main manor to get some deserved rest.

Bruce placed a naked hand to his uncovered face. He just realized that he was out of costume in the presence of his greatest enemy in his most inner sanctum. It almost seemed like a weight being lifted off his chest but he knew that this was still a dangerous game. It was probably on the safe side if he put on the black leather and kevlar, even though the Caliph of Clowns was out like a rock. It almost seemed like this was the first time he's gotten any rest. Before leaving his enemy's side he pulled down the blanket just a little to reveal his thin but somewhat toned torso. Bruce saw his butler's handy work and the fruits of his labor, from all the gauze and bandages that went into not only treating the bullet would but also many of the madman's unattended injuries. He never knew how beaten Joker really was, mostly because he hides himself underneath that gaudy purple clothing. But who was he to talk. Bruce had his own scars that he always hides underneath an expensive black suit or in his tights and armor as Batman. Just then the pale clown began to shiver from being exposed to the cave's chilly and open environment. He immediately placed the covers back over his new "house guest" and swiftly made his way to don on his other persona, Batman.


	3. Chapter 3: Strange Sentiment

**_Author's Note: All I have say is that I'm too obsessed with the Joker right now. I spend my time watching old cartoons/movies, playing my Arkham Asylum and Arkham City game that I passed like 5 times each already and listening to songs like "Deranged" by Coheed and Cambria and Joker's song done by Miracle of Sound when I should be doing homework or working on my other neglected projects. I really need to learn how to prioritize, but hey, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." But I digress, enjoy the story._**

* * *

****Warmth enveloped the usually cold Caliph of Clowns. He was surrounded by darkness but the shadows brought comfort and respite. Was he actually sleeping? Sleep had always eluded him that he no longer knew how it felt to drift into repose naturally. He was usually in and out consciousness either because his Bats had knocked the living day lights out of him or when the doctors at Arkham pumped him full of drugs to keep the clown heavily sedated. Either scenario didn't feel as good as this though. Unwillingly, Joker began to open his eyes to a rather dark but open place. His vision focused on the rocks around him, his ears perked to the sound of water cascading somewhere nearby and his lungs were filled with a brisk and cold air. Something told the jester he was definitely not in Arkham. He managed to prop himself up against the bed's headboard and pillows. The clown became aware that someone had bandaged his wounds and attended to his bruised and abused skin. Another thing became evident to the Clown Prince of Crime; he was completely naked underneath the thick covers that provided protection from this exposed and cold environment. Just where in the blazes was he?! The last thing he remembered was lying in some dark alleyway waiting to shake the grim reaper's hand and stick a "kick me" sign on his back. After he had chuckled a bit imagining how he would act with death, curiosity began to overwhelm the smiling man. He grabbed hold of the lightest blanket and wrapped it around his pale form and inched himself carefully off the bed. Once he placed his feet on the frigid ground and steadied himself, he began to take slow strides as he looked around this new place. He was now feet away from the secluded bed that seemed in its own little world compared to the rest of this "Cave of Wonders". A huge and fancy computer glared down on him with bright lights, an array of tools and gadgets greeted him displayed on a table, and vehicles were parked at a distance all black and bat themed. The Harlequin of Hate had seen some of this stuff many times before but never all in one place. Had he died and gone to heaven?! He knew exactly who all these treasures belonged to the question on the clown's mind was, where his lovely host was hiding.

* * *

Just then the Batmobile sped in the cave then came into a complete stop. The hull hiss as it opened and out climbed the answer to the giddy clown's prayers. Batman didn't look all too happy when he laid eyes on the clown. Bruce immediately made a mental note to handcuff the Joker next time.

"Hey Bats long time no see, what's it been a month since our last romp around town," greeted the Joker with a smile.

"What are you doing up? You should be in bed resting," Batman barked, completely ignoring the clown's statement.

"So this is the famous Batcave. Gotta say I was half-expecting to find a coffin or something of the like around," the Ace of Knaves joked, returning the sentiment of being ignored. The Dark Knight sighed heavily at the clown's joke; this guy never took anything seriously. The smile on Joker's face grew as he sensed Batman's exasperation. He lowered the blanket that covered his naked body to reveal a patch of pale skin from his chest. "You know Batsy you should really take guy out to dinner first before doing the dance with no pants. I thought my Dark Knight would be a bit more of a gentleman. Was it nice for you, I would've liked to be conscious for it at least."

Bruce blushed madly at the jester's insinuations, why the hell does he always have to be this vulgar!? "That is not what happened," he retorted darkly.

"Hehehe! Whatever you say sweetheart," giggled softly Joker taking pride that he can still make his Bats respond to him. "So, what did happen?"

"You tell me, I just found you lying in an alley bleeding to death," the detective responded. Joker placed a finger to his lips either contemplating an answer or deciding to make another joke.

"Eh, just old Ugly Face reacting badly to a little joke I said. But what else is new, people don't ever get the joke. C'est la vie," he smiled nonchalantly.

"Do you even care what happens to you? If I hadn't found you, you'd be dead."

"No, but you care and I love ya for it," said the clown as he blew a fake kiss.

"Why do I even bother," muttered Bruce to himself but the jester caught on to the black clad bat's snarky comment.

"Hey, I didn't ask for your help. Don't treat me like you did me some big favor Bats!" growled the now unhappy clown.

"You would've died, what is it about that statement you don't get!?" Batman fought back.

"Whatever Batso, I don't need this! I always bounce back, I didn't need you to come find me or to save me!" he screamed as he attempted to turn. The movement was too sudden for his stumbling legs to follow; the pale clown fell on the freezing stone ground with a loud thud. He did his best to hold back a groan but to little success. The knight rushed over to the fallen jester and placed a hand on his shoulder as he attempted to get up. "Don't touch me! I said I don't need your help!"

Batman pulled away his hand as he watched as Joker try with all his might to stand. The clown smacked his head pretty hard, hard enough to bust his head and draw blood. Blood and sweat began to flow down his face. His breathing became erratic but still he continued his efforts. His body was trembling; the blanket clung loosely to his form threatening to fall off. But his eyes, those piecing green eyes held so much conviction to prove he didn't need anyone, though his body betrayed him by having limits. The man underneath the mask couldn't stand idly by as the clown was hurting at his feet. Joker was barely on his knees when Bruce adjusted the blanket over him and carried him in his more than capable arms. This was just like before when he saved the Joker, except this time the madman wasn't quiet and fought back. "Let me go Bats! I can stand myself, I don't need you!" screamed Joker as he punched the armored torso of Batman and fidgeted in his leather clad hands.

"Yes you do Joker! Look at yourself, you can't even stand you are WEAK!" shouted Batman. Immediately the clown grew silent and still. He stared coldly into Bruce's sapphire eyes that lay hidden behind his mask; those green eyes stared at him as if they could see right through him.

"I'm not weak Batman," he said in a soft yet menacing whisper. At that moment he realized that he deeply insulted the clown, Joker almost seemed hurt if it wasn't for that pent up rage lying on the surface. Bruce really only wanted to help, he didn't mean to come off so brash. Joker sometimes really brought the worse in him, even when sometimes his intentions were good.

"I just want to help you," said Bruce after a small period of silence. Joker was taken aback at how soft and sincere the sentiment sounded. His eyes soften up as the knight began to walk back to the bed. Throughout the small journey back to his resting place the jester felt warmth in his knight's embrace. Why did he feel so warm in his arms all of a sudden? He's had contact with the man in black before, whether it is a punch or a round kick to the face but oddly something about this made the clown feel happy. But he wasn't smiling on the outside. Batman placed Joker gently on top of the bed. He then went for a first-aid kit while the clown made himself comfortable under the other thicker covers. He opened the box on the bed and reached for an alcohol pad to clean the gash on Joker's head. "Does it hurt?"

"No," Joker replied simply. He still didn't know what to make of the situation. One minute they're screaming at each other and the next they were at a loss of words. His knight's touch still had a warm sensation as he treated his wound even though it was concealed behind leather and rubber. Bruce was also confused by all this. The madman was actually letting him touch his pale skin though a moment ago it looked like his eyes held a murderous intent. But now he was quiet and his expression softened. Once he was finished he put the kit away and began to walk off.

He turned back to the clown and said, "I'll go see if I can get something for you to wear." Joker could feel the warmth between him and his bat seep from his increasingly cold skin as the distance between them grew. Whatever this was, he didn't want it to go away.

"Bats wait!" called out Joker before the detective was out of sight. He returned to see what the jester wanted. Joker took a few moments to collect his request as if he wasn't sure if his plea would fall on deaf ears. "Could you – stay a bit longer," said Joker as sincere as he wanted to sound. He didn't want his bat to leave; something in him just didn't want to be alone right now. Bruce was honestly shocked by the request. The Clown Prince sounded so vulnerable, it was so unlike him. He returned to the clown's bedside and pulled up the chair he had used to keep an eye on his guest as he recuperated for the last few days. Nothing was said between them, Bruce didn't even prod Joker about the sentiment in his voice as he asked him to stay. He didn't want there to be another argument between him and his greatest enemy. They didn't even meet each other's gaze as they remained in each other's company. It was as if they were both lost in thought. Eventually, Joker's eyes closed unable to stay open. Sleep never came to the clown naturally, but for some reason now this warmth he felt with his enemy seemed to calm him. Bruce could tell from the steady movement in Joker's breathing that he was now asleep. There was something about all this that made the billionaire unsteady. Something inside him couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen between him and the Joker.


	4. Chapter 4 Man Behind the Mask

**_Author's Notes: Sorry took me so long to get this out. I've been really lagging it but here it is! Enjoy the chapter I won't keep you waiting. One more thing thanks for the support amd I hope you enjoy :D_**

* * *

After a few lingering moments sitting beside his sleeping enemy, Bruce decided it was time to leave. Before he stepped away, he reached for a pair of handcuffs. He knew he couldn't leave the curious clown without having some insurance that the jester would stay in place. He cautiously grabbed hold of the Joker's hand and restrained it to one of the bars if the headrest of the bed. He was startled when the metal cuffs clicked as he locked them but to his relief Joker didn't even as much as stir. With that settled he began to walk off and ascend the steps that led to the entrance to his manor. He emerged from the hidden passageway behind the old grandfather clock and immediately headed to his bedroom to remove his suit.

Once there he quickly stripped away his armor and tight fitting fabric under suit. He finally removed the cowl and mask, how a relief it was to take off his other persona. But deep down Bruce knew he could never really separate himself from Batman. Especially with his new house guest who was resting in the Batcave. For his and the people he cared about safety, the clown could never find out Batman's vulnerable side, the man behind the mask. After a well needed shower, Bruce decided to see if Alfred was still awake. The night was still young, the reason he had come home rather early because Gotham was unusually quiet. No major crimes were committed, no one had escaped from Arkham or Blackgate, the police's main concern was the Joker but he was handcuff to a bed in the Batcave so there was no worry there. Nights like this were a rare thing indeed, besides he also wanted to check out the situation of getting the clown some clothes. Almost seeing him naked and draped in nothing but a blanket had reminded him that he asked Alfred to find something suitable. He probably had but didn't dare go into the cave after Bruce heavily forbade it. And the knight didn't have the luxury of time between board meetings and crime fighting to see to that his house guest was being taken care of.

Bruce stepped into the kitchen to find his butler masterfully at work preparing dinner. Once adding on the finishing touches he turned around to find his master watching.

"Oh, Master Bruce, I wasn't aware you had return from your nightly rounds," said the butler as he went off to retrieve plates from the kitchen cabinet.

"It was a quiet night so I thought I'd come home for dinner for once," he smiled.

"Well hopefully you'll enjoy my cooking more fresh and hot rather than shamefully coming in the wee hours of the morning and having to microwave it," he replied.

He marveled at the dinner, a roasted lamb with homemade gravy, baked potato wedges and steamed vegetables. In that moment when he thought of his growling stomach he remembered something. The Joker has been here for a couple of days already and he hasn't eaten a thing. Bruce was really being a horrible host, but it wasn't entirely his fault, he had other obligations as himself and as Gotham's protector. "Alfred, could you fix up a plate to take down to the cave?" he asked as straight faced as he could.

"Thinking of your psychotic guest now are we," responded the old man a bit harshly while he went about to fulfill his master's request. "You'll find the clown's attire that I bought a few days ago in the linen closet in case you were wondering," he added with the least bit of interest in Joker.

"Thanks Alfred," the billionaire replied trying to sound sincere though the sardonic butler was making it rather difficult.

* * *

Meanwhile in the cave, Joker was still resting peacefully. It was that good kind of sleep when one was aware of it and wants to stay asleep. But an itch on his nose was beginning to disturb his respite. Once he tried to reach for it, he heard metal rattling and felt something pull at his wrist. His eyes reluctantly fluttered open and saw that he was handcuffed to the bed's headboard. "That sneaky son of a bitch," muttered the clown angrily to himself. Did his bat not trust him this much as to stoop to restraining him? And here the Clown Prince thought he and his Dark Knight were becoming closer. It was the only logical response Joker could come up with as to why he had this strange feeling lately towards the bat in black. No, maybe it was all in his head, what utter madness right? He the Harlequin of Hate, the Caliph of Clowns, the Clown Prince of Crime in love with Batman! He halted his thought process for a moment, why did he use that word? "Love, what a strange way of putting it… Certainly I must be crazy," joked the clown with himself. But to some extent he wasn't sure what to call this warm infatuation with his bat. No other person had been ever to keep up with him, to challenge him at every step. No one else was able to keep him on his toes and his mind sharp. Joker began to mull the idea in his crazed noggin a couple of moments longer. Sure he enjoyed his dance with the Batman, hell he lived for it! But this strange feeling that enveloped him since his knight rescued him from the familiar clutches of death, he wasn't sure how else to explain it.

Before he could think on the subject any longer he heard something open and someone's footsteps descending the stairs. It was Batman carrying a tray of food and what seemed like clothing draped over his shoulder. Joker was almost touched by the gestures; he was actually going out of his way to take care of him. "Oh, Batsy, you shouldn't have. All this for little old me, you're spoiling me," smiled the pale man gleefully as Batman set the tray down on the tabletop beside the clown. He merely ignored the jester's nonsense and handed him the lavender pajamas and green boxer briefs Alfred had bought.

"Here, put these on," said the knight as he turned away from the jester. Joker merely let out an audible "ahem" to get Batman's attention. He turned to face the grinning man and awaited an explanation.

"Ummm… and how do you propose I get changed with this on?" asked the clown as he rattled the handcuff. "Seriously Bats first you strip me naked and then you handcuff me to the bed. I'm starting to get the feeling that you're very much into BDSM," chuckled Joker. Bruce began to blush angrily behind the mask at Joker's sexual insinuations.

"That's not why I did that and you know it!" barked the black clad man.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say Batsy. So do you mind letting me go so I can dress or if you want to do it that will be fine by me. Just be gentle my domineering Bat, I bruise easily," replied the Joker with a wide sensual smile spread on those cherry red lips. He let out a loud sigh as he reached for the cuff's key and unlocked him from the restraint.

"Do you ever know when to stop joking?" asked Batman rhetorically as he turned around. The clown messaged his wrist for a moment, and then reached to examine the clothing. He noted that the pajamas might fit a little loose but it would have to do. He slipped into the clothes he was given, still holding that ever present red smile plastered on his pale face.

"Oh, lighten up Batso. I don't understand why you get so hot under that rubber collar of yours, it's just a joke. Unless, you feel insecure about you're sexuality…" Batman turned around and shot a dirty look at the annoying and now clothed jester. The man looked like he was ready to rip the clown's arm off. Joker loved to play games but decided to let the subject die before his bat would tire of him. "Again, only kidding," added Joker in his defense. Batman merely grabbed onto the bridge of his nose and let out another sigh.

"Well there's food for you on that tray, help yourself," he said as he began to walk off.

"Wait, you're not going to join me? I thought you could stay," spoke the Joker before his bat could fly off.

"Stay and do what?" questioned the detective.

"Just talk, I really dislike being by myself. Besides I enjoy your company," said the jester. It almost sounded like he was begging him for attention. What could it hurt? Beside he wasn't going to leave the Clown Prince alone in the cave, he was merely going to his computer to keep an eye on him from afar. Joker wasn't asking for much, just a little company, reasoned the billionaire to himself. But still, his detective side told him to keep on his toes. With the Joker you always expect the unexpected. This could be a ploy to try to pull a fast one and attack. Either way Batman pulled up a seat beside his unpredictable enemy and watched him reach for the food and began to tear into it. The madman looked like he hasn't had a decent meal in a long time. "My compliments to the chef, this food is way better than the filth they serve at Arkham. And certainly better than Harley's cooking," proclaimed the clown merrily as he then took a bite from the potato wedges.

"Is that why you're rather thin?" asked the knight. The jester looked up with a surprised expression. He didn't think that Batman would actually take the initiative and ask a question. Joker usually had to force him to engage in conversation. He welcomed the sudden change in dynamics the only way he knew how, with a smile.

"Well you'd be skinny too if you saw the shit they serve at the madhouse. Dog food seems more appetizing than that crud and the poor girl tries I know but let's just say she isn't that handy in the kitchen."

Bruce let the madman continue and enjoy his dinner. Once finished he set the plates aside and looked down at the clown who now seemed deep in thought. Before he had the chance to engage the spaced out jester, Joker spoke. "Heh, it's funny… they treat me like an animal in there. But I guess that's how everyone sees me," he said with a sad but solemn smile.

"Maybe it's because you act like one," replied the bat in a callous manner. Joker looked up at him and glared intently.

"You really think I deserve what I get coming to me do you? You think it feels nice to be locked in a cage and fed garbage!? Do you think it's right to be drugged and restrained enough so you can't defend yourself just to get beaten like a fucking dog!? Do you think it's pleasant getting fried from the inside out by electricity!? Oh, tell me that you find all of it sick, because those are the kind of people YOU defend!" screamed the now livid Harlequin of Hate.

Batman stood silent in front of the panting and angry clown. That would explain all the scars and wounds he saw displayed on the jester's pale body. Bruce could see how tortured Joker seemed by his small comment, but deep down he couldn't possibly overlook all the Clown Prince of Crime had done over the years. Especially the things done to him on a personal note, from gun shots to stab wounds and any physical damage in between the madman had done it all. Then there were the events that haunted him at night. The crippling of his former Batgirl, Barbara; the constant torture he put his friend Jim through and the death of Jason, his former Robin. Death and chaos followed him; he was a pestilence to this city. The Joker sat proudly upon a throne over a pile of corpses at the heart of Gotham, this was no man. "You've acted like a monster way longer than the employees at Arkham have been mistreating you. All the murders you committed, all the people you've maimed and all the lives you've destroyed; you deserve every little bit of karma coming back to you, Joker!" shouted Batman. The Joker sat silently; he was a bit caught off by his response. But then again it's to be suspected, who was he really kidding about before? Thinking the bat would care about him. But there was one thing bothering the clown if what the Batman said was true. A smile was now present on the clowns red lips.

"If you mean what you say Batsy, then why did you save me? You could've done this whole blasted world a huge fucking favor by simply letting me bleed out in that alleyway. But you saved me that night my dear delusional Dark Knight, now what I can't figure out is if I deserve 'every bit of karma coming my way' then why did you intervene?" asked the curious jester.

It hardly crossed the Bruce's mind why he had done it. He just reacted and brought Joker to the cave and saved his life. He never could tolerate death, if there was something he could do to prevent it he had to act. He wouldn't be able to live to live with himself if he was directly responsible for someone's death, even if it was his most dangerous and hated enemy. "I don't want anyone's blood on my hands not even yours, Joker."

"Oh Bats, you never could handle death well could you? It's something you can't avoid you know, it's just natural," grinned the Joker.

"Is that what you really believe!? There is nothing natural about murder, death is a natural process but not when you force it with your own bare hands! And that's why people see you as an animal, a monster!" he screamed. This time the Caliph of Clowns remained indifferent, he saw it coming after all. But what really struck a nerve was that his bat really saw him like how every commoner in the cursed city saw him. But this man had a deeper reason than just the clown's ghastly appearance and relentless killing; he was probably going to get beaten for this but hell that's what makes this game fun.

"I know why you call me an animal, it's because I killed your second Boy Blunder isn't it?" That's it, the mention of his greatest failure caused him to grab the Joker by his pale skinny neck and raise him off the bed! Joker began to cough at Batman's immense grip but still managed to smile. "I crippled the commissioner's daughter, shot his wife and plague this city! That's right… kill me! You're the only one – I'll… let…" he managed to say in between being asphyxiated and wheezy laughter.

"SHUT UP JOKER!" screamed Batman as he threw the giggling man with all his might. Joker hit a corner of the cave's wall and crashed on the ground like a ragdoll. He lay motionless on the ground grabbing at his stomach and chuckling softly. Batman ran to him and saw that the stiches must've reopened, because the madman had begun to bleed through his new attire.

"Oh oh Bats… I think – you got me good this time," smiled Joker as he tilted his head back to see what little the mask revealed of the vigilante's eyes. He ran to his computer and pressed a buttoned that signaled Alfred to hurry to the cave, afterwards he went back to Joker, who was barely conscious now. "So, you finally did what everyone told you to do… euthanize the mad dog."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" barked Batman in his defense. Joker knew how to push his buttons and bring out his rage. He leaned close and carried the clown to the medical table, when he set him down he saw Joker's blood on his hands.

"Face it Bats, you want this… I do too. This is how our dance is supposed to end. Not… as glamorous – as I envisioned it but the outcome is the same."

"No…" was all he responded. Why did this man revel in death, even if it was his own!? He didn't want his blood on his hands, though a moment ago he called him the same thing everyone else in the world branded him. Joker is an animal, a monster, a lunatic, a madman and a disease on Gotham, but Bruce still did not wish the sentence of death on this man like everyone else did. It was not his place to be judge, persecutor or jury and certainly not executioner.

"You must be so tired hiding yourself, even in your own cave. Relax... I already know who you are," spoke Joker softly, completely shattering Batman's thought process.

"What – did you say?"

"You heard me… take the mask off… Bruce," he whispered softly as his smile grew smaller.

"How… how did you find out!?" growled Bruce. His whole world was shattered the only thing Joker hasn't defiled was already within his knowledge, the clown knew his identity! Before the jester could answer he closed his eyes and lay silent. At that moment Alfred rushed in the cave's entrance.

"Master Bruce, is everything all right?!" inquired the butler as he stormed in. His eyes lay on the scene and he instinctively hurried to repair the damage his master had caused.

"I didn't mean to do it," spoke softly Bruce as he continued in that moment to stare at his black gloved hands that were stained crimson. He looked so broken and out of place as if he was a child a part of some tragedy. Alfred had seen that expression before; it was the same one he saw when he picked up his young master at the police station after his parents' deaths.

"Are you all right, Master Bruce?" asked the butler as he worked to stop the bleeding.

"He… he knows who I am," whispered softly Bruce not being able to look away from his bloody hands.


	5. Chapter 5: The Man Who Laughs

**_Author's Note: Man I'm so pumped I caved in and preordered Injustice Gods Among Us video game but it's not due 'til April. Though a part of me is kinda bummed about Mark Hamill not being the Joker, but hey Richard Epcar (who also does the voice for Joker on MK vs. DC) is still pretty good. Hey grew on me when I played Joker's story mode in MK vs. DC plus in my opinion the design in Injustice fits his voice. But still I can't wait for that, anywho enjoy the story just getting a little of my excitement out of the way XD!_**

* * *

****Alfred stood bewildered at his master's statement that he almost lost his concentration. He had to pull himself together for Bruce's sake; the young man seemed to be unraveling at the seams. "Master Bruce, I have things under control here. I implore you, clean yourself up and get some rest," pleaded the butler as he continued fixing up the most wanted criminal in Gotham. Bruce immediately turned; he was unable to lay eyes on what he had done. He removed his bloody leather gloves and threw them on the ground. With clean and naked hands he removed his cape and cowl. His eyes still glanced at his hands as if they were still stained by the Joker's blood. Alfred really began to worry for his young master; he seemed like a frightened child who was caught doing something terrible. "Are you all right sir?"

"I hurt him Alfred, I couldn't control my rage and now he knows I'm Bruce Wayne," he replied softly. This was really getting to him, the best thing for him now was to step away from the clown and pull himself together.

"Joker will be fine; I'll keep an eye on him. What you need now is to rest, Master Bruce," said the faithful butler in an assuring and calm matter. The offer sounded so good to Bruce's ears, but he couldn't just leave Alfred with Joker. There was a part of him that feared for his butler's safety.

"Alfred, I can't do that. Joker's dangerous…"

"I will use some sedatives to keep him asleep, you needn't worry for me, I am more than capable to handle a man in his condition," interrupted Alfred. Bruce saw how adamant the older man was about this, he really did not like the idea of leaving Alfred in the presence of a certified deranged lunatic. "Master Bruce, please this is for your own good. You need time and rest away from this man."

"All right Alfred, but here, in case he wakes up," said Bruce in defeat as he handed a small electronic device in the shape of a bat. "It's just a communicating device so I can hear what's going on while I'm not around."

"Very well, now go upstairs and rest," replied Alfred as he grabbed the device and diligently went back to fixing up their unruly house guest once again.

Bruce reluctantly went upstairs to his room and stripped away everything that signified his dark persona. He looked into his bedroom mirror and stared at the man who lay beneath all the black armor. A part of him was still shaken to its core after the events that took place only moments ago. That man, with his haunting white shin, bright red lips, forest green hair and eyes like acidic green neon lingered in his thoughts. His hands were clean but he could still imagine the sight of Joker's blood staining his skin. That clown always knew how to push him to the edge, Bruce regretted every time he beat the jester within an inch of his like, this time was no different. If Alfred wasn't here to fix the aftermath of his rage then he would've really broken his one rule tonight and with all honesty he wouldn't be able to live himself. After another shower, he tried to wash away his guilt and inner turmoil but to no avail. Once he was finished, Bruce merely changed into some sleeping attire and sunk into the mattress and sheets of his luxurious king sized bed. Some sleep should help ease his uneasy mind but his worry for his dear friend and father figure still remained in his thoughts.

* * *

As his master was getting some well-deserved rest he had finished attending to Joker's wounds. He administered some painkillers and kept vigil watch over the madman after cleaning the cave. Alfred remained quietly at the clown's side as he watched over the deranged guest. How Batman can handle this man night after night as the clown caused mayhem was beyond a mere butler's comprehension. But after seeing how badly his master had reacted to Joker revealing he knew Batman's identity and being responsible for the jester's demise caused Alfred to worry. The man before him was known to cause even the sanest and most professional psychiatrists at Arkham turn utterly insane. Why Bruce decided to let this animal of a man reside here he'll probably never know.

After an hour or so the butler grew weary at just staring at the unconscious man. Joker slept like a rock and was as active as a corpse. There was no way he was in any present danger right? Just as the thought crossed the poised man's mind, the pale clown's eyes began to pry open. With a groan he sprang to life and laid his acidic fluorescent eyes on Alfred. "You put me on something didn't you?" asked Joker groggily as he sat up and messaged his temple.

"How are you awake? I was under the impression that you'd be unconscious for the rest of the night and then some."

"Please, you can give me ten times the dosage and I'd still be bright eyed and bushy tailed," replied the jester with a tired laugh.

"Care to test the theory," said the daring butler sardonically as he retrieved a syringe and sedatives from his person. Joker stared wide eyed at the needle and its contents, before Alfred could approach; Joker raised his hands in defeat.

"I'll be good I promise, just don't stick me with that!" shouted the clown. Alfred stopped in his tracks and stared quizzically at the White Duke of Death. "Excuse me for shouting but I just really hate what that stuff does to me," apologized Joker with a nervous smile as he eased himself back into the bed. Alfred acquiesced to the madman's plea but as he put the needle away he pressed the button on the device alerting Bruce that his psychotic guest was awake.

* * *

A beeping noise awoke Bruce from his slumber. The device sprang to life and connected to an audio feed from the cave. He was able to hear the conversation between Alfred and Joker. In the back of his mind he hoped Alfred wasn't in too much danger, but maybe this way he would be able to get answers to questions plaguing his respite. He listened attentively but ready to leap into action if the need to do so arose.

* * *

"Is there something on your mind? I get the distinct impression you're not very fond of me," smiled Joker innocently.

"Well beg pardon but it's hard to like a man who murders as a career and causes my master grief," spoke Alfred in a poised and calm manner, though letting a slight after tone of venom coat his words. The Joker could practically taste the malice in the butler's comment but decided to focus his attention elsewhere.

"So where is Brucey? Is he sulking somewhere because he almost killed me?" questioned Joker as a smile lit up his face. Alfred glared at the lunatic with such disdain, so he did know the identity of the Batman after all.

"Master Bruce is resting upstairs in the manor away from you, you've caused him enough grief as it is, and he needed a break from your madness."

"Blah blah blah, all I hear from you Jenkins is utter jealousy because he spends more time with me," grinned the pale man at his own amusement.

"The name is Alfred, and I would like to inquire how you came about figuring out my master's identity," requested Alfred as he tried his best to set aside his annoyance for the clown. Nothing could escape Joker's eyes; he knew the effect he was having on the poised and utterly British butler. Either way he let out a soft chuckle but paused to enlighten the man.

"Whatever Sebastian," smiled Joker as he got Alfred's name incorrect again. "Well, I've known for a long time now. After I killed Boy Blunder número dos, Bruce Wayne was there at the General Assembly for the U.N., where I was graciously asked to give a speech at. I saw him and that look he gave me and I just knew he was my bat."

"All that time and you hadn't said a word about it? Why haven't you used that information at all, you could've killed him or told the world his secret?" questioned Alfred with rage building in his voice. He was nearly at his breaking point when the raving lunatic had the gall to mention Jason like that, but he had to keep prodding the jester with questions so that Bruce could get answers.

"Now why would I wanna kill him or let the bat outta the bag? Where's the fun in that? Sure I'll admit I saw Bats as a nuisance before and wanted to get rid of him before, but I opened my eyes and saw what was really going on between me and Batman. I now see the fun in the game we play, how riveting our dance between life and death on the rooftops of Gotham is. I care deeply about him and this connection we share. And as to why I never said anything about knowing his identity until now, well, who wants to put a name on the Batman. Certainly not me, besides I have no need to know the man beneath the mask, I already know him better than anyone anyways," smiled wickedly the Caliph of Clowns as he moved some of his wild green curls away from his pale face. Alfred was deeply insulted hearing the Joker's explanation, especially at that last comment.

"You must be absolutely deranged if you honestly think you know anything about Master Bruce. And if you care so much as you insistently proclaim, then how come you continue to cause him pain?"

"Love hurts sometimes, dear Alfie and I love to cause pain," answered Joker with a sinister grin. Alfred had enough of this clown; he was starting to get an unpleasant feeling around Joker. He backed up a bit until the self-proclaimed Clown Prince of Crime spoke once more. "Oh, Alfred, before I forget… next time you speak with me while having a wire on you, I'll shove it down your throat so Batboy can hear your screams in stereo." He paused as the smile on his face widened. "Hello Bruce."

* * *

On Bruce's end he heard a loud fit of laughter. How did he know he was listening in?! After the laughter died down, the communication feed was cut. "Oh, no Alfred!" whispered Bruce to himself as he ran out of his room. God, how could he be so careless! He only prayed as he reached the old grandfather clock that he was not too late…


	6. Chapter 6: House Rules

**_Author's Note: Well this next chapter might get a bit intense. I know a lot about the Joker to say that everyone has their own interpretation of his psychosis. Not every writer portrays him the same way. Well this is my own way of viewing him, not saying what I think is straight cannon, I mean come on I think what one has to understand is with a character like the Joker it leaves him to be redesigned, manipulated, molded and conveyed to the story's or writer's interpretation. Not one Joker is the same, kinda like snowflakes (HA! Sorry for the lame analogy). Anyway, this chapter and the ones to come will feature how I wish to interpret and show the Joker's psychosis and how Batman handles it. Hope you enjoy XD! (oh by the way the reason I have Joker say the wrong name when referring to Alfred is because my little brother and sister know I love Batman and keep forgetting Alfred's name and using other cliché butler names like Jenkins and such to spite me, and I thought it was a funny idea so I included it.)_**

* * *

****Bruce stormed through the cave's entrance to find Alfred by the computer and far away from Joker. "Are you all right Alfred?!" cried Bruce as he ran to his butler. He saw that the man was shaken as if he saw a ghost. "Did he hurt you?!"

"I'm fine Master Bruce. Joker just scared me is all," spoke Alfred as he tried to compose himself. "He just leapt at me to grab the device from my person. I thought for sure he was going to throttle me, but he let me go once he had what he wanted."

Bruce was in an outrage, after all he did for that fucking clown and this is how he repaid him!? He rushed to where the Joker was laying down; the jester was content to see the real face of his most gracious host. Those cold but fiery sapphire eyes of his burned into him and he loved it, those eyes seemed more intense without the mask. "About time, what're crazy Brucey? You left poor Geoffrey here in these caves by himself, shame on you. Didn't you know there's a deranged clown sleeping in these caves? Oh, by the way I accidently broke your toy. But what do you care right, you're rich you could just buy another," joked the giddy clown. Bruce was not in the mood for any of it. It was one thing to push his buttons and test his limits but Joker crossed the line when he dared lay hands on Alfred. Joker stopped laughing the longer he stared into those hateful eyes. It started to feel very cold between them, he didn't find this as funny as he did a moment ago. But Joker was too prideful to let his nemesis see him back down so he kept up the happy façade. "What's wrong sweetheart? Did I touch a nerve again? Are you mad that you almost killed me or that I ruffled your butler's feathers a bit? Oh, lighten up Batsy, I'm still kicking and Alfred is peachy keen, I see nothing wrong."

"I can't take this anymore Joker, I can't take you anymore. I tried my best to help, I wanted to help you but it's you who doesn't want it. I'm taking you to Arkham, back to where you belong," spoke Bruce as he did his best to stifle his rage. The Caliph of Clowns had his own rage to calm down, but hearing that his knight had given up on him and was banishing him back to his dark acrylic cage drove him insane.

"FUCK OFF! I SAID IT BEFORE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP! STOP ACTING LIKE YOU WANT TO SAVE ME, I KNOW VERY DAMN WELL YOU NEVER DID! YOU WANT ME BACK IN ARKHAM, FINE I'LL GO! BUT YOU BETTER FUCKING HOPE THEY KILL ME IN THERE BECAUSE IF I ESCAPE I SWEAR TO YOU I'LL SET ALL OF GOTHAM ON FIRE AND YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I WILL!" screamed with all his might the Harlequin of Hate. He was left breathless, that heated confession drained him. Bruce and Alfred, who had joined his master's side, were left speechless. Bruce merely sighed and stood his ground.

"Then I'll just have to make sure you don't escape, Alfred hand me some sedatives," spoke Bruce as calmly as he could as his faithful butler handed him a readied syringe. Joker glared at the needle and backed up against the headboard.

"Get that away from me, Bats!" screamed Joker.

"Calm down, this is just so you won't hurt yourself on the drive back to Arkham," said Bruce as he approached. The pale man's breathing grew erratic as he clenched up like a cobra waiting to attack. "Alfred, help me hold him down." The two men began to close in on the clown.

"Stay back! Stop it! You're hurting me!" cried Joker as he curled up into a ball facing away from both men. Bruce stopped in his tracks and motioned Alfred to do the same.

"We haven't even touched you…"

"STOP IT! JUST STOP IT! I DON'T LIKE THIS! I'LL FUCKING MURDER EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!" screamed Joker, his voice sounding less like a man and more like a hollering beast. Something was definitely wrong, the clown was shaking as he clenched at the sides of his head and pulled at his hair. The next thing he did made Bruce truly afraid, he heard Joker laugh. It started off low but gained momentum until it the madman was full blown hysterical. "You like this don't you? Getting some cheap thrills as you mess with me while I'm so drugged up that I can't even see straight. Enjoy it, I'll make sure you all pay dearly for this!" growled Joker as he laughed once more. Bruce had enough of this; whatever this was he didn't like it. He went to the laughing man and grabbed him by the shoulders and stood him on his knees so they were face to face.

"Joker, snap out of it! What's wrong with you?!" called out the billionaire. Almost immediately the laughter stopped. Those green eyes stared back into his blue ones with a lost and sad essence in them. "Joker?"

"Why – why do you keep… calling me that? That's not – my name," replied Joker softly. What?! Just what was going on here? All this both confused and scared Bruce deeply, he never saw the jester so lost and out of place before. Before he could question about the pale man's last statement, the clown closed his eyes tightly. Once they fluttered back open he stared very confusedly at Bruce and the position they were in. Both on the bed face to face and Bruce holding onto his shoulders. "When did you get here? What are you doing, Batsy?" his eyes went to the syringe in Bruce's hands. "Are you gonna use that on me?" questioned Joker with a nervous smile, his eyes still seemed so lost.

"Joker, you don't remember what happened? You were screaming," said Bruce calmly as he let go of his grip on Joker.

"What are you talking about screaming? I…" he stopped himself from continuing, as if realizing what Bruce was referring to. "Oh… that. I must've had an episode or something, is that the reason you look so worried?" inquired the clown as he eased himself to sit back on the bed.

"An 'episode'?" questioned Bruce.

"It's nothing really to be concerned about, even I don't know why it happens. Sometimes it's about past events, sometimes it's nothing true at all. I mean honestly Bats did you forget, I am one certified crazy clown, wanna see my badge," said Joker in a fit of small giggles. Bruce just continued to stare uncomfortably at Joker. For all the years he's known Joker he's never seen this vulnerable yet psychotic side to him. With Batman, Joker has always been confident, articulate and albeit crazy but he never seemed to display signs of severe psychosis. It shook Bruce seeing a glimpse at Joker in a new light and it rattled him to see the clown see it as how he saw anything, as a joke.

"Why don't you ever take anything seriously? You just laugh at everything, even your own pain. You said that your episode could've been from a past event, did something happen to you?"

"And where is all this concern coming from? Look even if I told you, you'd never believe me, nobody does. Besides if I remember correctly, before I had that little outburst, you said you were taking me back to Arkham, that you were tired of me. Just put the damn needle away and I'll go back quietly to my cage. The boys probably miss me and give me a nice welcome home beating," said the jester quietly but with a smile across those red lips.

"What do they do to you in there exactly? Is that why you have all those injuries and had that episode?" asked Bruce, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.

"What do you care, if memory serves me you said I deserve whatever misfortune befalls me. You're such a contradiction Bats. Well if you must know, Arkham isn't exactly a field of roses. I get roughed up by the orderlies and guards. We all do actually; Eddie, Harvey, even old straw for brains, but they love to get extra rough with yours truly. I can't speak for everyone when it comes to the medical care they receive, but for me, the docs usually have me so doped up I can barely see sometimes. Helps keep me still while they shock the living hell outta me. They claim it's for my pain but I know really it's because they don't want to deal with me, I mean why else give me ten times the normal dose. They don't want me to function; they want me to lie in my cell absolutely helpless…" He paused for a moment as if recalling a memory, and by the expression on his face Bruce could tell it wasn't a pleasant one. Bruce could remember Joker's words while he was in his episode, something about "cheap thrills" and threats about murder. The detective in him could infer that something happened to Joker and he was worried that he could be right about his suspicions.

"Have they ever…"

"Raped me," answered Joker simply before Bruce could bring it up.

"Ummm, I'll be up in the manor," said Alfred as he cleared his throat. By this time Alfred knew he was in the way, plus this conversation was really uncomfortable for him. In consideration of their privacy he left the general area and preoccupied his attention elsewhere.

"Ha, such a considerate butler," smiled the jester. He put a hand through his hair and continued. "Well, to answer your question Batsy… Yes, they did once. It was during one of my earlier stays," he paused for a moment and started to chuckle softly.

"What's so funny?"

"Think about it, some lowly guards and orderlies having their way with me. A bunch of nobodies getting their rocks off while I, the most dangerous man in Gotham couldn't do a thing about it. Oh what a sight, oh the irony! Hahaha! The most funny thing about was I got even with every last one of them," he replied between fits of laughter and a wide grin. This was very unsettling for Bruce; he couldn't find the hilarity in any of it. Unlike the Joker, who seemed he'd bust a gut.

"I don't find any of that funny," he spoke sternly. Joker ceased his laughter and stared silently at his bat. Whether as Batman or as Bruce Wayne, the stubborn man would never see his way.

"But that's all in the past, nothing to mope about now. Well anyways, are we still taking the nice drive through the countryside back to the funny farm or not?"

Bruce just stared into Joker's eyes; he wasn't sure what to do anymore. There was no way the Joker could be lying this time, the wounds and scars on his body cooperated with his story. He would honestly just feel guilty taking the jester back to Arkham. Besides, with Joker's precarious situation, he wasn't sure if the clown could survive another beating. "No, I'm not taking you back there."

"Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that darling," smiled Joker as he playfully funneled his ear.

"I said I'm not taking you to Arkham," repeated Bruce. Joker merely chuckled at the statement.

"Oh Brucey boy, you're always so unsure of yourself, such a contradiction really. First you're the big bad bat threatening to take this poor clown back to Arkham. And now you're acting all sweet like and letting me stay in your cave," smiled the Caliph of Clowns teasingly.

"Don't get me wrong, there are rules," said the billionaire sternly, interrupting the pale man's laughter.

"Of course there's rules, lay it on me Bats," mocked Joker as he fluffed his pillows and lay back down.

"You can't lay a hand on Alfred or mess with him mentally. I don't want you to annoy him or instigate anything with him. I know how you are when you try to get into people's heads."

"But you're still fair game right sweetness?" asked the clown as he blew a fake kiss.

"I don't care what you do to me just don't hurt Alfred. A few other rules, don't bother me while I'm working on other cases, you're not the only criminal I have to worry about. Last thing, I want you to stay here, you are not allowed to roam about as you please. Do I make myself clear, Joker?" said Bruce with a stern tone.

"Crystal clear, but can I add in a condition for you to follow?"

"Depends… What is it?" questioned the detective.

"Well, could you at least spend some time with me each day? Just an hour of your time and when you're not around you could just leave some reading material. You know so I won't be bored down here," smiled innocently the jester. Bruce remained quiet and contemplated Joker's request. "Oh come on, all I'm asking is for your company, is that really too much to ask?" scoffed Joker, seeing the doubt in Bruce's blue eyes.

"All right," answered Bruce simply to appease the madman. Joker's smile widened and his eyes filled with a childish light.

"Awww, you really do care Bat Babe," he replied teasingly. The playboy merely sighed at the lunatic's playful nature and raised a tired hand to his face. Bruce was really hoping he wasn't making a mistake with all this.

"It's getting late, you should be resting," urged Bruce as he began to walk off.

"Wait, Bruce," Joker called out before he could leave. Bruce turned and met Joker's eyes. "Before you go I gotta know, what changed your mind about letting me stay? Is it because you'd feel guilty leaving me back at Arkham or is something else rattling about in that head of yours?" inquired Joker. Well on one hand the Clown Prince was right about how he would feel guilty to leave Joker in such a cruel place. On the other hand there was something else going on in his mind. After seeing the madman's vulnerable side, a part of Bruce really wanted to reach out to him. Maybe try to understand and save the clown from his own madness. This task was practically impossible, but then again Bruce was known to accomplish even the most hopeless of causes and he knew this could not be accomplished if Joker was back at the asylum. His pride as Batman though, couldn't afford giving his greatest enemy the satisfaction of seeing inside his inner thoughts.

"Good night Joker," Bruce spoke in a calm but strong voice as he left for the stairs.

"Heh, sweet dreams Batsy," smiled widely the Clown Prince of Crime seeing his enemy leave the cave without having answered his question.


	7. Chapter 7: Conflicting Ideals

**_Author's Notes: Well nothing going on really in my life you know, except for the tons of work from school. But writing this fic really relieves the stress. I had an essay for my English class where I had to analyze a picture or commercial and I chose the final scene of Injustice Gods Among Us issue #4 where Superman kills the Joker. I really hope I get a good grade on it. Anyways, enjoy the chapter R&R please!_**

* * *

****Alfred was up bright and early to attend to his daily rituals around the manor. He prepares his master's breakfast and sets out a nice dark navy business suit, a light blue undershirt and a silk periwinkle blue tie for him, since he had a meeting today. After Bruce eats, showers, and changes; he drives off in his black Lamborghini, leaving the butler to do his day-to-day tasks. Alfred takes care of his master's social obligations and keeping up his public image. Not only that but he takes care of the domestic chores of tidying up the manor and doing prep work in advance for Bruce's lunch and dinner. But on top of all that the butler had a new job, taking care of the Batcave's deranged houseguest. Alfred was a bit surprised to find out that his master had decided to let the psychotic clown stay. Obviously the well-mannered butler had his objections but in the end he had to follow orders. He was to bring the clown breakfast and leave immediately. Bruce stressed that he was not supposed to talk to Joker at all. Though Bruce made it clear with Joker that he would get an express ticket back to Arkham if he harmed Alfred in any way, that doesn't really ensure his manservant's safety. Just as a precaution, the billionaire gave Alfred a taser and a way to contact with him instantly if Joker tried anything funny. The butler prepared a cheese omelet with onion, green pepper, and tomato. Along with two strips of bacon, sausages, a side of hash browns, some toast and some freshly squeezed orange juice to drink. With a tray full of food and a weapon hidden in his person he made the descent down the stairs that led to the cave. He found that Joker was wide awake and merely staring at him. Alfred paused a bit, after almost being attacked yesterday he had his reservations of venturing closer towards the lunatic.

"Oh come now, I won't bite… much," said the jester as a wide smile spread across his lips and he laughed loudly. Joker was mocking Alfred for being fearful, but the ever poised butler wasn't going to let the clown continue to scare him. Alfred, with calm strides, approached Joker and silently set the tray in front of him. Joker smacked his lips as he laid hungry eyes on the breakfast. He grabbed the fork and knife and paused, this made the butler nervous seeing Joker have the sharp metal utensils. Next time he'd make him eat with his hands. That's if there'll be a next time. Joker merely started giggling softly to himself as he smiled at the nervous yet stoned face man in front of him. "Do I frighten you that much Jeeves that you cringe at the sight of me having a knife in my hand?" Alfred didn't answer, though he did have to hold himself back from responding to the clown getting his name wrong again. "Lighten up Riff Raff; what happened yesterday was nothing personal. I didn't hurt you and Brucey made it clear about not harming a single scarce hair on that balding head of yours. So no hard feelings right, you don't have to act like I can tear your face off at any moment. Well I could, but I won't, so let's start on a new foot, how 'bout it?"

"Well if you may cease from referring to me as cliché butler names from television and other media that would be a start," responded the butler sardonically.

Joker stabbed his fork into one of the sausages and took a bite. "Consider it done…" He swallowed the food in his mouth and took a sip of juice. "Alfred," he smiled after a slight pause. He took another sip and then began cutting into the omelet. "Gotta say this grub look great, I might have to kidnap you to be my personal cook," joked the jester as he took a bite of the omelet. It still unsettled him hearing the madman talk like that, he didn't know whether the lunatic was really joking or disclosing future plans. After taking a few more bites and savoring each item he paused and stared at Alfred with those haunting eyes of his. "Now why are you so nervous around me, Alfie? I know that's not a banana in your pocket, the Bats left you with a weapon to defend yourself if I got… well a little crazy right," smiled Joker as he pointed to Alfred's pants pocket with the knife.

Alfred gulped hard at how dead on the Joker figured him out. "How – how did you…"

"Figure out you're carrying a taser. Well knowing my dear Batsy, I knew he wouldn't trust me with you around. He's probably, like you, thinking I'll go against my word and waste you while he's away. And the taser part well, out of all his little gadgets a taser would surely knock me out and it's a simplistic tool any moron can operate it," explained the clown as he awarded his lengthy explanation with a few more bites of his meal. "Honestly, I'm hurt. I was really trying to be a good clown and for what? For Batsy not to trust me," said the Caliph of Clowns with a big and dramatic frown. At that point Alfred really couldn't tell whether or not Joker was kidding. That fake expression and the sarcasm in his voice were a dead giveaway but there was something in the madman's eyes that didn't match. His eyes seemed sad, as if he was truly hurt. Before the butler could ponder that thought any longer that sadness disappeared. "So where is my Batman?"

"Master Bruce is at a meeting," answered Alfred simply.

"Oh, well that's too bad; he's gonna probably be a while, huh?" Alfred responded with a nod. The jester took a few more bites from each item and finished his juice. He set the tray on the counter and continued to smile at Alfred as he cocked his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to play a game, Alfred?" asked Joker with a wide grin.

* * *

It was midday when Bruce left the meeting and headed back to the manor. Throughout the whole conference he couldn't concentrate, he had Alfred in the back of his mind. Was leaving him alone with Joker such a good idea? He hadn't gotten any word from the emergency device that would contact him if anything went wrong. That was a good sign right? What if Joker got Alfred by surprise before he could use the taser or contact him? All these thoughts plagued his mind; he just prayed Alfred was safe.

As soon as he parked his car in the garage, he rushed into the manor. "Alfred." He called out but got no response. "Alfred!" he said a bit louder as he moved about. He made his way closer to the grandfather clock and saw that the entrance was slightly opened. Before he could call out Alfred's name again he heard the Clown Prince of Crime's hysteric laughter. Bruce rushed into the cave, how could he be so careless?! He knew it this was a bad idea! But when he came to the scene his eyes couldn't believe what was in front of him.

"Ha! I won again! That's checkmate Alfie boy!" laughed Joker as he captured Alfred's king.

"Bollocks, I almost had you that time!" cursed Alfred as he crossed his arms.

"Oooo you were close I'll give you that, I'm just too good," smiled Joker as he nonchalantly brushed some hair from his face. He looked up and saw Bruce staring at them incredulously with a hint of anger in those baby blues. "Oh, oh, daddy's home and I haven't done my homework, looks like we can't play anymore, Alfie."

Alfred turned; cleared away the chess set and approached his master. "Forgive me Master Bruce, I was merely entertaining him so he wouldn't get into trouble," said Alfred in his own defense.

"I thought I made it clear that you weren't supposed to interact with him," said Bruce sternly.

"Sheesh Bats, haven't ya heard, all work and no play makes Alfred a dull boy. It was just a few innocent games of chess. You act like I gouged his eyes out with my queen," scoffed the jester. Bruce redirected his eyes at Joker.

"I'll go prepare lunch then," sighed Alfred sensing that his presence was no longer needed and that those two were going to face off once again.

Bruce approached the grinning man and stared daggers at him. "Why are you being such a stick in the mud? I didn't hurt him or anything," smiled innocently the jester as he cleaned the dirt from under his nails. Bruce grabbed Joker by the collar and brought him close; the madman couldn't help but admire those striking blue eyes.

"What kind of game are you playing?!" growled Bruce.

"Why are you getting your tights in a bunch I didn't DO anything!?" spat back the Harlequin of Hate. The billionaire merely shoved the clown away from him and began to walk off.

"I don't ever want to see you talking to Alfred again, do you hear me!" shouted Bruce as he turned one last time to face the pale man. At that moment he saw that Joker had his head low, he was unable to discern any emotion.

"I was really trying to be a good clown, but I get your message loud and clear Bats," he said softly. Bruce was too livid to want to find out whether the clown was mocking him or not, he needed to leave and he did.

* * *

He went upstairs and closed the entrance behind him. Afterwards he went to the kitchen to continue his earlier talk with Alfred. What was he thinking? He specifically told him to just leave Joker his food and get out. The less time he was in the clown's presence would insure his safety. But then again, maybe he shouldn't have let Alfred down the cave by himself; maybe he should prepare the cell in the cave and have the Joker stay there. So much doubt was coursing through his thoughts, why did he have to make such mistakes and be so careless? As soon as he came in he saw the butler attentively cutting up sandwiches and stirring lemonade.

"So has the young master come to dispute with me as well?" asked Alfred rhetorically.

"Alfred, what were you doing down there. I said get it and get out, you had no reason to be in the cave for that long," said Bruce sternly.

"I was merely entertaining your guest so…"

"Don't you understand Alfred?! He's dangerous! He could've KILLED you!" interrupted Bruce.

"DON'T YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT!" shouted Alfred losing his composure. Bruce's rage immediately died out, he merely stared at Alfred. "Forgive me Master Bruce, but I'm well aware what that lunatic is capable of. I don't need to be reminded of the atrocities and the misery he's caused. I wasn't the one who brought this beast of a man here; it was you who chose to save him. Either you view him as redeemable and worth saving or you come to your senses and see him for the lost cause that he is, you can't have it both ways Master Bruce. If you must know I was curious to see where I fall in those lines. Whether I wished death on the madman or could see why you keep trying to find alternatives, and frankly I saw that the man is definitely ill. Whether he can be cured I may not know but you need to find out where you see this man. Last night you were so guilt ridden for causing him pain yet you're not passed letting your rage get the better of you. I worry for you Master Bruce, I implore you settle your thoughts and decide whether or not you are capable to provide the 'help' you wish to instill onto the clown," spoke Alfred as he finished assembling the sandwiches on the plate. He then washed his hands in the sink and proceeded out of the kitchen. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few errands to run," he spoke with that ever proper demeanor as he left his master's presence.

Bruce was left dumbfound from the butler's scornful and lengthy lecture. He couldn't argue with him, Alfred was right. Bruce was always doubtful where he stood with Joker. At one moment he pitied him and thought he could try to help the crazed man, while the next he found himself pummeling the lunatic's face in the concrete. He sighed heavily and understood Alfred's advice; decide whether he would keep the Joker here for his recovery or risk sending him back to the asylum. In all good consciousness he didn't feel right sending Joker back to Arkham, not until he could be sure the facility was free from abuse and corruption, which could take some time to do. Then again for his and Alfred's safety, he couldn't have Joker free in the Batcave. There was always the possibility the clown will fall back on destructive tendencies and destroy his home or worse. That cell in the cave would have to do; it would keep the clown contained and out of harm's way. He made his decision, grabbed the tray of sandwiches along with two cups of lemonade and began his journey back to the cave.


	8. Chapter 8: Understanding

**_Author's Notes: Man I'm a bit upset lately got a "D" on my analysis pic essay that I was so excited about. Oh well, c'est la vie right? But wow over 1,000 views now that makes me happy. Well anyway enjoy the chapter, please comment I'd love to get critique or know how the story is going so far._**

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****Bruce descended the steps and came back to where Joker resided. Once he laid eyes on the empty bed he nearly dropped the platter of food he was carrying. "Damn it Joker…" spoke Bruce in a simmering rage. He set down the tray and immediately went on the search for the deranged and dangerous clown. "Joker! Where the hell are you!" bellowed Bruce as his deep, dark and familiar persona. Joker had to be in the cave, the entrance through the grandfather clock was sealed and there was no way he'd be able to travel far being injured and under the influence of pain killers. Before he could shout again he caught glimpse of the jester standing in front of glass casings that enclosed mannequins that donned the costumes of his permanently retired subordinates. Rage started to blind his vision, the sight of his greatest enemy, that was directly responsible for Batgirl being in a wheelchair for the rest of her life and the death of his second Robin, being in the presence of their costumes grew to be too much. Before Bruce could unleash his pent-up aggression the clown spoke.

"Hello kiddies, how you two been?" smiled Joker as he spoke to the memorials. There was a small pause; it was almost as if he was waiting for someone to respond. "Awww, giving old Uncle J the silent treatment eh, well I don't blame you," he chuckled softly. Bruce's rage grew dead cold; he was just left confused as he stared at the chuckling clown. Joker seemed to be earnestly talking to the costumes as if they were really Barbara and Jason. "I know we've had our differences in the past but can you two enlighten me on something, I don't seem to get the joke. You see, Batsy doesn't seem to get how our little dance works, there's so much potential but he always seems to be in constant doubt and worry, has he always been like that?" asked Joker as he paused for a moment. All this really put a pit in Bruce's stomach; there was no way Joker was faking. He was literally just a few feet away from the jester, who just seemed so dazed and in his own little world. In his deranged mind, he was really having a talk with Batgirl and Robin. Joker smiled and nodded as he parted some hair from his face. "Yep, I see… There was something else I wanted to inquire; I really want to know why he refuses to take our game to its final stage. He truly knows how to lead old Uncle J on. I mean do you know how frustrating it is to wait for that final blow or that push off the ledge all so he can change his mind? Of course you two don't, hell if either of you were in his position you wouldn't have a care in the world as you revel at my death. You two wouldn't hesitate, but hey that's why you're second banana to my Dark Knight. But anyway, back to the question at hand why does he hold back, why does he refuse to end me?" he delayed again waiting for an answer. "Oh, you two don't know why either. It's rather confusing isn't it? It's not as if I don't know I deserve death, that's why I bestowed that honor onto him. Don't get me wrong I'm not suicidal, I have my own reasons, but what does a clown have to do to get him to lose control?! Why does he let me live if he knows damn well this blasted world with all it's pathetic people would be a hell of a lot better off!" proclaimed Joker as his voice raised and his body tensed up. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. "Is it because he sees more in me, beyond the depravity and insanity that I am? Does he see some small glimmer for something better in this sea of chaos, while others branded me as hopeless?" pondered Joker while bearing a sad smile.

Bruce felt wrong witnessing this. It was as if he was intruding Joker's most personal thoughts. To him it felt like he was listening to something he was never meant to hear. The pale and lost clown began to laugh softly, the more he stared at his reflection on the glass casings the more his laughter grew. "Ridiculous, am I right?! Oh, how delusional your mentor is right? You know the funny thing is, even if he was right, there's no way I can ever be redeemed. I mean look at me, no matter what I will always be Joker! There's no escaping it, no one sees past this pale skin, this bloodied smile, all that I am is all I will be!" he then stopped laughing and dropped his crazy grin. "There's no second chance, no turning back for me. No one will give it to me anyways. Even if I go completely out of my character and apologized, no one in their right mind would listen. I can't say sorry to you Miss Gordon, because let's face it you'd have to be as loony as the folks in Arkham to consider forgiving all I've done to you and your family, so why bother wasting words. And you Bird Boy I can't say anything to you because… well you're dead," he let a small giggle escape at the end and placed a hand over his red lips. "Do excuse me, I was really trying not to laugh, old habit." Joker calmed himself and finally let out a sigh while plastering his trademark grin. "Well, it was nice chatting with you two, I had fun. We should do this again sometime," he smiled at the lifeless mannequins.

Once he was done he turned and stepped towards Bruce, he didn't even notice the billionaire. "Joker?" questioned Bruce as he placed a hand on Joker's shoulder. In that brief second, Joker collapsed into his arms, when Bruce turned him over he saw the jester was unconscious in his embrace. Worry filled Bruce's face, as he checked Joker's pulse he sighed in relief to find his heartbeat normal. Joker was so cold in his arms; the thin material of the pajamas probably provided little protection against the arid environment of the cave. He carried the fragile clown into the cell he had intentioned to put Joker in before that strange event. He placed the sleeping jester over the small cot in the cell. Bruce thought it best to go for some of the blankets on Joker's former resting place, along with their lunch, so he left to do just that.

* * *

After a moment or so that Bruce left, Joker began to open his eyes and groggily sat up on the cot. He gripped the bridge of his nose and tried to focus his vision. Once he was able to steady himself he looked around and saw he was no longer in the bed in the cave. Instead he found himself in a cell with concrete walls, a lone cot, a metal toilet and small sink which were welded and bolted to the ground and walls. He noted the huge metal door along with a keypad lock; he scoffed at the precautions his bat took in order to keep him restrained. This was certainly more spacious than his cell in Arkham, but probably a bit more difficult to escape. But hell, he wasn't the master of escape for nothing. Just before he could contemplate his escape, the huge metal door opened and in came his "gracious host" with blankets and lunch. "Really Brucey, you couldn't trust me enough to stay put in my nice warm bed that you downgrade me to this little homely cell, now that's cold. I'm genuinely hurt," said Joker with feigned and exaggerated despair. Bruce remained silent and handed the jester his blankets, who quickly wrapped himself in them. He then set down their lunch and stared at the clown. Joker really didn't remember getting up from his bed and talking to the memorials of Batgirl and Robin. It felt awkward being in his presence just after hearing him display his most inner and personal thoughts. "Sheesh, don't get so down in the dumps, I was only kidding. Hey, even I wouldn't trust me, so no hard feelings right?" asked Joker as he reached for a sandwich. Bruce didn't even notice that he was conveying his concern so he tried to shake himself out of his thoughts and acknowledge Joker.

"Look for what it's worth, sorry for getting angry before," apologized Bruce as he took a sip from his drink.

"Heh, don't apologize, I understand perfectly. You're just really defensive about the people around you. Alfie's like that stern father figure to you so of course you'd be protective, especially in the presence of a crazy psychopath like myself, am I right?" smiled Joker as he continued to enjoy his lunch. At that moment Bruce grew curious about Joker's time with Alfred.

"So, if you don't mind answering, what did you do with him aside from playing chess? Knowing you, you probably talked to him about things," inquired Bruce as he took a bite of his meal.

"Well if you're worried that I scarred him for life with my grisly tales or made him squeal about your personal life, I didn't. It was he who was asking the questions actually, and feeling like being amused I entertained his curiosity."

"What did he ask?" questioned Bruce.

"He asked about my personal beliefs, you know why I do the things I do. He also wanted to know about you, how you fall into my little quest to liven up the lives of the wretched people of Gotham. I think the last two things he asked were, how it is that you haven't killed me and how come I haven't killed you," Joker paused and drank his lemonade.

"How did you answer?" In all honesty, Bruce was now looking for clarification of the clown's delusions from before.

"I thought the answer would be obvious by now Brucey. You're too much fun, I can't…"

"That's not what I meant. I want to know why you think I haven't killed you," interrupted the billionaire. Joker remained quiet; Bruce took this small pause to set the empty tray and cups on the ground and waited for him to respond. The Joker grinned as if he came up with a good answer.

"Because of some self-righteous code you developed after mommy and daddy were shot in that dark alleyway. They were taken from you and now you're this ball of angst that goes around beating the living hell out of those who you deem bad," laughed Joker with a wicked grin. In that split second Bruce grabbed hold of Joker's collar and was inches of beating his face in. "You gonna do it this time? Are you finally going to lose control?" At the mention of his parents' death he was close to ripping the clown apart with his bare hands. But he stopped himself, Joker wanted this, he wants him to end the madman's life. But why, why was it so important to the clown that he be the one to kill him?

"Why do you do this Joker? Why is it you want me to kill you? Why do you want to die so badly?" pleaded Bruce all while still clutching at Joker's collar.

"I don't want to die, I love life," smiled the hopelessly giddy clown.

"Then why do you keep doing this?! You keep pushing me closer to the edge just hoping I snap one day and kill you!" growled Bruce, his voice filled with frustration.

"That's none of your concern; the only thing you should know is that is how our dance is meant to end." Answered Joker quietly

"I know there's something deeper, I want you to tell me!"

"And how the hell would you know?!" snapped Joker. Bruce then let go of his hold and stared quietly at the confused and angry clown. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I heard you… talking about it. I don't know if you remember but you were out of bed and I found you talking to monuments to my former apprentices, I heard you Joker…"

"Stop," stated Joker quietly, his expression was stoic but Bruce could see anger lying behind those acidic green eyes. So, he knew what he was talking about. But Bruce didn't stop, he wanted to know why this was so important to Joker, he deserved to know.

"Tell me Joker, I have the right to know! I'm not kidding; I don't want to be locked in this suicidal course to the death with you anymore! My offer from before still stands…"

"And I told you it's too late for HELP!" intervened Joker raising his voice. "You really want to know Bats, you really want to know why I want this from you?! Because you're so far from my reach!" screamed the angry jester. The billionaire philanthropist was left speechless, he dared not interfere. "I call you my equal, my other half, but in reality I know you're better. You're truly incorruptible and that's what I want to destroy, so you can be on my level. And I know the only way is for you to break that one rule you have. I could never be what you are, so the easiest thing is to join me on my level, even if it means dying by your hand. But you won't even do that! You can't finally wake up and do what everyone is just hoping you'll do one day. I want you to join me on the side of madness and despair over the fact that you… THAT YOU LOST THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTOOD YOU!" he finally shouted with all his might. At this point Joker seemed so enraged. Bruce could tell that the madman's confession was just tearing him apart. In the heat of the moment Bruce did something he thought he would never do, hug his greatest enemy.

He wrapped his arms around the thin clown and held him tight in his embrace. He could feel Joker's fast and erratic heartbeat start to calm down. He was breathing hard against Bruce's neck, he wasn't even sure this was really happening. Bruce could feel Joker tremble as he hesitantly raised his hands to hold Bruce. For the first time in his life, the clown felt doubt, he wondered if it was all right to hold this man before him. Joker found the confidence to wrap his arms around Bruce's back and eased into the embrace. Neither man said a word, they just continued in this position. Bruce could feel Joker's icy skin; he wondered why he always seemed so cold. Both men were unsure what to do now, this felt awkward but it felt good. Joker was calm in his arms; he felt that the madman was in need of this, of someone merely connecting with him. Just when it felt that Bruce was loosening his hold Joker deepened his. He could feel the warmth from before envelop their embrace. In truth he didn't want to let go, Joker was holding desperately onto his only lifeline. The only one that kept him bound to being human, no one else did this. Not Harley with her empty devotion, not the doctors at Arkham with their false sincerity, no one but the man in front of him saw him as human. He was merely a caricature, a monster, a smiling demon to the people of Gotham, something not human. But Bruce made him feel otherwise, only he was allowed to see this weak and vulnerable side beyond the madness.

Eventually, Joker let go of Bruce and allowed him to stand. He didn't want to let go, but then again he couldn't allow it to drag on. Bruce picked up the empty tray and began to head for the door, unsure of what else to do. Before he left he turned one last time to meet Joker's haunting eyes. "Try to get some sleep," he stated simply not knowing what else to say.

"I'll try," replied Joker quietly, never taking his eyes off his bat as he left him alone in the now cold cell.


	9. Chapter 9: Uncertainty

**_Author's Notes: Thank you all very much for your reviews and support. I really didn't think I'd get such feedback. I honestly didn't know what to expect when I started this, usually when I do fanfics they're one shots so this is my first one to be written in multiple chapters with a storyline instead of a single moment where it leads to carnal pleasure. And this is also my first BatmanxJoker fic so still getting my feet wet per say when it comes to this pairing, I hope you guys enjoy and thank you for your support so far it really makes me happy especially now since I feel so depressed lately._**

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News of Scarecrow's escape filled the monitors of the Batcave's computers. Bruce was now diligently at work to secure leads to the ex-psychiatrist's plans. On a corner screen he would glance at security feed coming from Joker's cell. Since their encounter earlier afternoon, Joker merely was sitting on the cot staring aimlessly at the concrete walls. For hours he just stared, not even taking a moments rest. Now that it was night, Bruce didn't have the time to figure out what the clown was thinking. His own thoughts were a bit scrambled with everything that has been going on. Moments ago having his most dangerous enemy in his arms that moment of fleeting weakness still lingered in his thoughts. No matter how many times he played that moment in his mind, he couldn't figure out why he had reacted that way. He desperately wanted to calm the madman's rage and he did, but not without stirring something inside himself. It felt wrong embracing Joker it felt like a betrayal to everyone the clown had murdered and maimed. But at the same time it felt like an ephemeral relief to throw all thoughts aside and console the clown. It was nice to have a serene and tranquil moment with Joker without either of them hurting one another. Bruce let out a deep sigh and resumed his work, trying desperately to focus.

In that moment, Alfred came down to the cave with his master's dinner. He saw that his employer was already in his armor and cape with his famed cowl by his side. He also noted the many files on display on the computer monitors but what really caught his eye was the video feed of Joker. "I see you've decided to let him stay," spoke Alfred indifferently as he set the meal by Bruce.

"Yes, until I can settle things in Arkham and he's well enough to return," spoke Bruce as he acknowledged his butler. He saw that Alfred was watching Joker, but tried not to let it interfere with his work.

"What's he doing?" inquired Alfred.

"I don't know he's just staring off into space, he's been like that for hours. He hasn't even stopped to sleep," commented Bruce as he shuffled through police files on Jonathan Crane.

"Well that surely will hinder his recovery," stated Alfred.

"I was wondering if you could slip him something in his food or drink, you know something that could calm him down so he can rest," said Bruce as he closed the files to acknowledge Alfred properly.

"I'll see what I can do, most of the sedatives we had him on barely kept him down for an hour or so. Also I really doubt he'll be fond of the idea, especially after that first time we tried injecting him," replied Alfred as he poured his master a cup of tea.

"That's why I was hoping you'd do it without his knowledge. What would probably work best is if you give him something sweet and drug his tea, I know he can't resist sweets," stated the detective as he sipped his tea.

"Never thought my job description would entail drugging deranged psychopathic clowns," said the butler sardonically. Bruce took a few bites of his dinner and finished his tea; afterwards he reached for his cowl and placed it on. He stood before the butler now completely in his Batman persona.

"I know this is hard Alfred but I won't force you to do something you don't want to do. I'd do it myself but Crane escaped, I have to get him," explained the Dark Knight.

"Understood Master Bruce, you can trust me. After all though it's a strange request it does fall within my duty," assured Alfred holding onto that ever poised demeanor.

"Thank you Alfred," said Bruce simply. Before he could leave Alfred did stop him for one last question.

"Master Bruce, before you go I would like to, if I may, inquire if you thought about what I said. You know since it seems you've changed your mind about sending the Joker back to the asylum, I do wonder what changed exactly?" asked Alfred. Bruce was unsure if was best to tell Alfred what happened between him and Joker, he wasn't sure if the butler would understand. He merely started heading towards the Batmobile, leaving Alfred without an answer. As the car sped off the butler merely sighed, "Mysterious as always."

* * *

Alfred prepared and sliced a piece of vanilla cake with white chocolate frosting that was decorated with fresh strawberries, to go along with the "special tea" he made for the cave's unruly guest. He really hoped that the dosage he put in would keep Joker asleep for a while. He also hoped that the clown wouldn't catch on to his plan before he could ingest the sedatives. Then again if Joker was going to give him any grievances, he still had a taser in his pocket. Still there was no denying that he was nervous about doing this, though the jester hasn't done anything bad lately doesn't mean he wouldn't fall back to old habits. He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and gathered the madman's desert and headed for the cave. Once there as he came up to the cell he glanced at the security video before entering. Joker was still where he had been for hours just quietly staring into space. He began to wonder what did happen between the madman and Bruce, and why his master was keeping it a secret. He shook the thought aside and began entering the code to open the metal door to the cell. As he entered he noticed life return in the Joker's eyes as he looked up and smiled.

"Hey Alfie old boy, what's that you got there? Oooo! Is that cake for me?! But it's not even my birthday," smiled the jester as he laid hungry eyes on the desert.

"Master Bruce said that you enjoyed sweets and suggested that I should make you a desert," answered simply and in his usual manner as to not raise suspicion as he rested the tray in front of the clown. Joker took note of the carefully decorated slice as he picked up the spoon rested precariously adjacent the desert.

"Always thinking about me isn't he? You should make me a cake every year on my birthday, if I can ever remember it. Let's just call this my un-birthday cake… On second thought no that makes me sound too much like Jervis," joked Joker as he dipped the spoon into the moist delicacy and put it in his mouth. He savored the richness of the white chocolate frosting, the sweetness of the cake and the tartness of the strawberries. Definitely better than anything he had in Arkham and way better than what Harley can do. "You outdid yourself, I love your cooking but your deserts are simply to die for! I think I am gonna kidnap you when all's said and done here." said Joker as he went for a second taste. Alfred didn't know whether to be flattered or disturbed by that comment. He saw Joker reach for the tea and just as he placed the cup to his lips he set it down before drinking. "Hey speaking about Brucey, where is he?"

"I believe he's on his nightly rounds, seemed to be in a rush," answered Alfred hoping the clown would just drink the drugged drink.

"So who got out this time?" asked the jester as he blew a bit at the hot beverage in his hands.

"Jonathan Crane," responded the butler trying not to let on that he was hiding something.

"Scarecrow?! I hope Twofers didn't give away my little escape route to that idiot, I'll tear that coin from his clutches and dig his eyes out. Oh what the hell I'll do it anyway, need to repay him for this nifty new hole in my gut," chuckled Joker as he finally drank his tea. He let out a deep sigh and continued smiling. "Eh, Batsy can take care of it; he'll be back in no time. All those losers don't compare to me anyways, everyone knows I'm his greatest adversary."

"You're surely the one who's caused him the most grief," commented the butler under his breath. Joker caught the snide remark and stared.

"Yeah, I have… haven't I." he replied quietly. Alfred was surprised what he was witnessing; Joker actually looked hurt and sad. It was a small glimpse before it turned to a forced smile desperately trying to hide his vulnerability. "He hates me doesn't he? He'd be an idiot not to right? I mean let's face it everyone does, and it's only logical he does too, am I right?" he asked with a feigned smile. Alfred honestly didn't know how to answer the madman; even he didn't comprehend his master's view on the psychopath. Before the conversation went on Joker's eyes got heavy and his head started drooping. He placed a tired hand over his face and tried to focus. "Ugh, you slipped me something… Heh, you sneaky little – butler you… If I wasn't – I'd…" before he could make sense of what he saying he fell backwards over the cot and lying motionless. Alfred wasn't sure if Joker was really unconscious or faking right now. He pulled out the taser just in case and walked over to the pale man. He cautiously tapped him to see if he'd get a reaction. When nothing happened he dared to grab one of Joker's hands and lifted it up only to let it fall limply back on the mattress. Joker was out like a ton of bricks, the butler finally let out a sigh of relief. He then laid the unconscious clown in a more comfortable position and placed the blankets over his sleeping form. Alfred simply picked up the tray and left the cell to turn his duties elsewhere.

* * *

Again sleep never really came naturally to Joker. It always eluded him; he'd only known respite in the form of small periods of unconsciousness lasting maybe thirty minutes, at the most an hour. Sometimes in that small timespan of rest he would dream. It happened rarely, there had sometimes been instances where he recalls dreams while awake. But again that only happened rarely. Well now as he lay resting, he began to dream. When he did, in his usual dreams he would see flashes of events. None of them were ever clear, just sounds and maybe burst of people and places. None of which he ever understood or remembered. But not this time, this time it was different.

He was above the rooftops of Gotham, staring down at the luminescent city. The night air whipped and lashed against his pale face and the moon shone as his spotlight. He was standing precariously on the ledge of the high building staring at the path of lights the city provided. Just across from him stood Batman; on top of another building a large distance, away from him. The Clown Prince wanted so desperately to stand by his Dark Knight's side. But a deep fear resonated in him as he felt his heartbeat thump rapidly in his chest. "I – I can't… I'll fall! I can't do it Bats!" called out the frightened clown.

"You have to try!" the detective shouted back. Joker looked down over the ledge and saw perpetual darkness under his feet. The street was not visible; it just seemed like an endless pit. His eyes then went to the path of light that led to his beloved adversary. The path was very narrow and the light was very dim, there was no way he'd make it across. "You have to try… for me," repeated Batman loud enough so Joker could hear.

The jester hesitantly placed a foot on the path, once he felt he had "solid ground" on this makeshift path he stood uneasily on it. He kept his eyes on the black clad bat, his only motivation at this point. He never felt this way before, scared, unsure, and doubtful but at the same time wanting to be close to the man he's called enemy for years. The city seemed empty though it was adorned in lights, at this point in this place there was only him and Batman. He continued onward, slowly and trembling, it seemed like he was walking a tightrope with no safety net. Oh what he wouldn't give to have that hag Catwoman's freak like balance right now. Once he was at the halfway point of no return his eyes glanced down once again to that horrible and ugly darkness below his unsteady feet. The pitch black void came alive with screams and blood chilling cries that rang painfully in his ears. When he looked up he saw that his bat was no longer there. "Bruce?" he whispered softly. The lights of the city dimmed and gave way to the dark below; the small glimmer coming from the path began to fade. Joker was sent hurdling towards the shadows once the last bit of light was extinguished! He was desperately trying to hold onto anything to keep himself from falling, but everything disappeared around him, he was utterly alone.

* * *

"Joker! Joker wake up!" shouted Bruce as he tried to grab hold of the clown. Joker was screaming and frantically flailing his arms and legs making it harder for him to calm him. "Joker whatever you're seeing isn't there, you're dreaming!" he called out. Joker finally opened his eyes and took hold of Bruce's chest gripping the black kevlar tightly. He was breathing hard and trembling anxiously. "Joker?" asked Bruce softly as he tried to nudge the jester away.

"Don't let go! PLEASE!" he cried out. Bruce was taken aback by this, he's never seen Joker this shaken before. He reaffirmed his embrace around the pale man in order to calm him and cease his trembling.

"Don't worry, I won't," Bruce spoke gingerly to assure the quivering man in his arms. As Joker began to ease himself he began to breathe more soundly. Again this felt so awkward, but this time Bruce looked down and tried to meet Joker's eyes. The clown was looking down, unwilling to meet the detective's gaze. This was so unsetting for Bruce, he's never seen the madman like this before, scared and frightened like a child who's had a terrifying nightmare. When Joker finally released his hold and Bruce broke their embrace, they finally met each other's eyes. The Clown Prince could barely see into his Dark Knight's eyes because of the mask but he was able to decipher uncertainty in that blue gaze. The man before him really thought too much, he was so full of doubt. Joker wanted for him to be confident in his actions but he saw his bat was second guessing each move. Nothing was said as Batman stood up and quickly exited the cell.

"Alone again… as always," whispered Joker to himself as a feeling of utter loneliness fell upon him.


	10. Chapter 10: Duality

_**Author's Note: One thing I forgot to mention in chapter 9 I got the idea for Joker's dream, if you couldn't see already, from the joke he tells Batman in The Killing Joke about the two guys in the insane asylum and I believe Shadow of the Bat #37 where Joker talks about a dream he has about the world in a dark haze. They also included that in the Joker teaser trailer (who is portrayed by my fave Joker cosplayer Anthony Misiano) for a web series called The Batman Chronicles. I thought those two instances together helped illustrate a point that will come up at some point in the story. Also they happen to be two of my favorite Joker quotes. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy.**_

* * *

Bruce fled the scene as fast as he was able to. He made his way to the computer and shed his mask off. Again, he found himself torn from his actions. What came over him this time? He came home after chasing Scarecrow for six hours to find him hold up in an abandoned warehouse trying to get his operation up and running. After taking the ex-psychiatrist back to Arkham he returned to the cave about three in the morning to find the security feed still running on the computer screen displaying Joker screaming as he tossed and turned in the cot. Had it not been for those cameras Bruce would've never known about the jester's agony for the room was soundproof. Instinctively, he rushed in to see what was wrong and again he found himself holding onto his nemesis. Though this time it was Joker seeking comfort from whatever horrible nightmare he was having, that moment still held the duality of being good and wrong at the same time.

"_Batsy, I know you're still there_," spoke Joker aloud so the cameras could pick up his voice. Bruce found himself staring at the video and saw the clown was staring elsewhere but completely aware that he was being watched. _"It's frustrating you know, being left alone after what happened. Tell me, I know you can hear me dearest, why did you leave_?" he asked. Bruce was well capable of answering by using the intercom connection to the room, but didn't. He just remained silent as he stared at the rather lonely pale man who was sitting on the cot. That sad face was overtaken by a happy façade as he, at this point, turned to face the camera directly. "_So you're not gonna answer me. That's fine by me; I think I already know the answer anyways. I just wanted to hear it from you I suppose_," he smiled. The vigilante was too tired to deal with this, without making it known he left the cave. But before he was gone completely, it was almost as if Joker was psychic, he called out to him. "_Good night Bruce_."

* * *

Morning finally came and the billionaire was enjoying his day away from Bruce Wayne's business life by sleeping in. Usually, he was up and out of the house by eight, but today his CEO Lucius let him take a day off away from all the tedious but necessary aspects of Wayne Enterprises. Out of habit he found himself opening his eyes at around nine and thinking about the clown in the cave. Last night surely was a weird one, it was one thing for Bruce wanting to calm his adversary the first time they embraced but for Joker to seek security in another was both unheard of and shocking. It was weird seeing the madman in such a manner, almost disturbing. Afterwards, how he was calling out to him, asking why he had fled, Joker seemed genuinely hurt. All this wasn't making sense, Joker wasn't supposed to be like this so… vulnerable. He couldn't help but to wonder if it had all been a trick. Joker was known for displaying weakness in the form of fake pasts only to laugh about it later. That is how he got the up and coming psychiatrist Harleen Quinzel to abandon her life and become Harley Quinn. Since then she's been practically putty in his hands. Who's to say that the Clown Prince of Crime wasn't trying to pull something similar on the detective? Though the physical abuse on his body was enough evidence to support his story about Arkham, his episodes or his displays of weakness could all be an act. In all honesty Bruce didn't want to think it true, but his alternate persona knew better than to trust the madman.

In that moment Alfred opened his master's bedroom door to find him awake. "Oh good, you're awake. I thought I was going to have to drag you out of bed, being it your day off," commented the butler as he entered.

"What's wrong Alfred?" asked Bruce as he got himself up from his comfy bed.

"It's your guest, Master Bruce. He seems to be refusing to eat now. I supposed he didn't like being tricked yesterday," stated Alfred.

"Fine, I'll get him to eat," muttered Bruce as he got up. Before he left for the cave, Alfred stopped him.

"Master Bruce, may I have a word with you. You know the Joker seemed rather forlorn when I entered, is something going on that I'm not aware of?" asked Alfred.

"I wouldn't know about that," merely replied Bruce as he left for the cave.

* * *

Before Bruce entered the cell he noted that Joker was in the same place he had left him hours ago, still in that same position and with a face that just seemed so vacant of life. If this was just a ruse then Joker should get an Oscar for how convincing he was. As he entered he saw the lunatic's acidic eyes come to life and stared. A small grin spread on his lips as he saw the billionaire in nothing more than some light blue pajamas. "Nice pajamas, did you come to snuggle sweetheart?" asked coyly Joker as he pulled a bit on his own pajama collar to show a bit of skin. Bruce did his best to ignore that comment and looked to the tray of food. Maybe Alfred liked cooking for Joker a little too much, as he noted the plate of French toast with fresh berries and syrup scattered on top and a glass of milk that seemed to be like a snapshot from a food magazine.

"Alfred says you refuse to eat," said Bruce as he took a seat at the foot of the bed. The clown looked incredulously at the billionaire. Well what did he expect? That he'd trust him to eat his food after being drugged the last time.

"No offense to Alfie and his delicious cooking, but I find it hard to believe you didn't tell him to slip me something again," responded Joker as he crossed his arms and pouted like a child refusing to eat his broccoli.

"Look I only told him to drug you yesterday because you haven't slept in hours and that's bad for your recovery," defended Bruce.

"Did it ever occur to you that I can't sleep," replied the jester quietly. Bruce didn't know how to respond to that statement. Sensing his bat's loss of words he continued. "I don't sleep at all really. Only thing that seems to put me down is drugs they pump in my system at Arkham or that brick wall of a fist of yours but even then I'm not unconscious for long," he added. Bruce merely sighed and began to feel a bit guilty for resorting to the same methods the corrupted asylum used to keep the clown quiet, also for all the times he used more force than necessary to shut him up.

"Sorry for that, but I assure there's no drugs in your food or drink Please just trust me," said the philanthropist showing remorse for his actions.

"Why should I when you refuse to trust me," stated Joker as he stared deeply into his bat's blue eyes. "You keep me locked up in a cage, have cameras on me, drug me and refuse to talk to me about what happened. Yeah, way to show trust there Brucey."

Without notice Bruce took the fork and cut himself a piece of French toast and ate it. He then took a small sip from the glass of milk and continued to meet Joker's fixated green eyes. "See, now eat," he said.

Joker waited a moment to see if the effects would come but was relieved to see nothing happened. He did admit that the breakfast did look irresistibly delectable. He grabbed the fork and began to eat, that butler really knew how to make good food. The jester savored each bite as if it would be his last. Once finished he drank the entire glass of milk showing the detective that he was willing to comply and trust him wholeheartedly, whether or not his bat would reciprocate that trust. Bruce then put the tray aside and continued to stare the madman down, trying to find any signs of deception. "What's wrong Batsy, I can tell when you're thinking you know," said Joker breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

"You talk about trust, but how can I trust you after everything that's happened between us over the years," replied Bruce.

"I had a feeling…" he sighed. "Do you think I'm lying now?"

"Yes," replied the detective simply. Joker wasn't smiling, he wasn't frowning; he just seemed so empty and hard to read. He positioned himself closer to Bruce and reached for his hand. Before he could back off, Joker placed Bruce's hand over his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. Bruce was surprised to feel how fast it was thumping against his palm. Their eyes locked, striking blues ones meeting with fluorescent green.

"This is what you do to me Bruce; I'm not lying to you. Not this time," said Joker, the words coming faintly almost a whisper. Bruce was honestly taken aback by all this but he didn't respond. Joker took the initiative and came closer and wrapped his pale arms around the firm and muscular body of **his** Batman. Bruce's limp arms found their way around the smaller man. Joker could feel Bruce's heart beat as fast as his. He placed his head on the crook of Bruce's neck and remained there. Bruce didn't push him away nor told him to let go, he just eased into this moment. Confusion, contentment and peace he never thought this could ever be brought by just contact, especially coming from his deadliest enemy. "Do you feel ashamed for enjoying this? I've wanted to be closer to you for a long time," spoke the prince to his knight. In that moment Joker raised his head and drew himself closer to the handsome and chiseled face of his bat. Seconds passed as he inched himself closer to the man's lips and pressed his own blood red lips against them. Joker managed to breach Bruce's defenses as he let out a gasp of disbelief. The maple syrup from the breakfast tasted even sweeter as Joker savored their kiss. To Bruce it felt wrong but so pleasurable. Their kiss was raw and primal but Joker's skin was like ice against his. All this seemed like too much, why was this man so cold? It was like kissing death itself, so cold and devoid of life!

Eventually, Bruce's reason forced him to push the jester away. He was left breathless by that kiss but managed to stare down the hurt clown. He merely looked away as if he'd done something he never wanted to do, or at least without having the feeling reciprocated. Bruce just left, rushed out of the cell without any word. Joker took a deep breath and placed shaking hands through his green locks. "Smooth move, God I'm such a fucking idiot," cursed silently the clown to himself for being so forceful on his bat.


	11. Chapter 11: Alone

_**Author's Notes: Oooooh! Things finally heated up and a lot of feels on both ends! Finally I have spring break; hopefully I get a lot done with this story before I have classes again. Hope you guys are enjoying it; I'll just shut up and get on with the story XD!**_

* * *

Bruce quickly went back to his room; he needed to be alone and away from Joker. Once there he was still breathing hard and raised a hand to his lips. God, what's wrong with him?! He actually let Joker kiss him and at some point he was kissing the madman back! He could feel his skin crawl but at the same time he felt so stimulated. The kiss was animalistic like a basic urge overwhelming all reason but there was something he couldn't look past besides the obvious fact that not only was Joker his enemy but also a man. The jester seemed so cold against him; it was like trying to breathe life back into a corpse. How could someone, who was so deadly and so immoral, incite such feelings? Joker was a villain, a madman, a psychopath and so much more… but Bruce couldn't help revel into that sudden kiss. Again Bruce felt torn from such contradicting feelings; he really just needed to be alone.

* * *

Alfred had noticed when his master rushed out of the cave and went to his bedroom. He couldn't get a word in to see what was wrong but his curiosity got the better of him as he descended the steps to the cave. He saw the video feed from Joker's cell and saw the lone man under the covers lying down on his side. He was facing towards the camera's general direction so the video captured the utter despair that lay hidden under his disheveled green locks. The butler was both shocked and astonished at the sight. Joker then closed his eyes and allowed a few tears to escape. Alfred thought he would ever see the day where Gotham's most ruthless criminal, the man who reveled in the graveyards he's filled and laughed at making the city bleed, look so human. The man was a living caricature of sick wickedness but in this fleeting moment he never looked so human. He wasn't sure what to do, should he enter and talk to him? Maybe that wasn't wise; the butler wasn't sure how the madman would handle him trying to pry into his private matters. But then again he might have something to do with his master's rather strange behavior. He went back upstairs to fetch some fresh sheets and blankets for the cell's cot; it would also provide an excuse to enter. When he returned to the cave he saw that Joker had pulled himself together and was sitting up right. He opened the metal door and saw that Joker was looking in his direction.

"Excuse the intrusion; I was merely coming in to exchange the sheets and blankets," spoke Alfred.

"Okay, I'll get out of your way," replied Joker indifferently as he got off and stepped aside. No plastered grin, no joke, no snide remark? There had to be something afoot.

"Is something the matter? You don't seem quite like yourself," the butler inquired as he changed the sheets. At this comment Joker began to let his smile break through.

"Isn't that a good thing Alfie? If I was being my usual self, well you'd be one dead butler," he grinned. Alfred gulped hard at that statement and looked in Joker's direction. "Eh, don't worry I won't do anything to you. I don't feel like my usual happy and deranged self to cause any mayhem," he sighed.

"Master Bruce was in here a moment ago, if I may inquire did something occur between you two?" asked cautiously the butler as to not raise suspicion that he knew something more.

"How the hell should I know ask him yourself," spat Joker.

"Well if I can recall, you did say you knew him better than anyone else," Alfred pressed further.

"Sheeesh, you sure are a chatty butler. First it was the 21 question game while we played chess and now this. What I meant was that I know the man ideologically wise. But when it comes to other matters I'm left in the dark with a wet match," admitted the clown as he clenched his fists.

"And what matters would that be?" questioned Alfred.

Joker let out a huge sigh and drew in a deep breath. At this point Alfred was finished changing the cot's sheets, placing down the new blankets and picked up the tray from the clown's breakfast. The jester took a seat in the middle of the bed and faced away the butler's gaze. "How – does it feel like… to be in love?" Joker asked hesitantly.

"Excuse me?" Alfred gasped out not knowing how else to react.

"Never mind, forget I said anything. Just get out," responded Joker in a low but at this point rather angry way. Alfred didn't mean to further upset the clown but hearing Joker, the Caliph of Clowns, the White Duke of Death, the Ace of Knaves, the Clown Prince of Crime; ask of love was just shocking. And if Alfred was piecing together the jester's signs correctly, Joker was in love with his master. Well right now was not the best time to find out as he already angered the madman. As he made his way to the exit he did pause to say something to the sad and lost clown.

"I'm not sure what's going on, but I will say one thing though. When one is in love they change to better themselves for the person they care for," spoke Alfred as he left. Joker let the message sink in and began to smile a bit.

"You don't say Alfie. Heh, something tells me that butler knows more than he leads on," mused the jester with a smile.

* * *

After that whole ordeal Alfred decided to see his master's take on this whole matter. Something was afoot and the butler was going to get to the bottom of it. He went up to Bruce's room with a platter of food at hand, again to fulfill his duty as a butler and to have an excuse to enter. He knocked on the door and called, "Master Bruce, I have your breakfast, may I enter."

"Of course Alfred, come in," replied his master. Alfred entered the bedroom and saw that his master was still in bed. He looked almost as troubled as the clown in the cave. The butler quietly set the tray of oatmeal that was slightly sweetened with honey and fresh berries on top, with a side of grapefruit and his morning coffee; down on his lap. Bruce immediately went for the coffee and washed down the sweet taste in his mouth from his kiss with Joker, with the bitter and black drink. He let out a sigh and noticed his butler seemed like he had something to say. "What's wrong?"

"Sir, I don't mean to press into your private matters, but did something occur between you and the Joker?" asked Alfred getting straight to the point.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," answered Bruce as he scooped a spoonful of oatmeal, completely brushing off the question. But Alfred caught on, he knew Bruce long enough to know when he was trying to hide something from him.

"I went down to his cell sir…"

"What did he say?!" interrupted Bruce as he raised his voice and nearly knocked over his meal.

"Nothing of the matter, he didn't say a word about you being down there this morning. But he did ask me something that made me a bit concerned; I really want to know the truth. I think I know what's occurring here but I honestly want to hear it from you, Master Bruce," urged the butler for his master to come out and reveal what has been happening. The billionaire merely looked away from Alfred's gaze and shook his head.

"I don't even know if I know what's going on, Alfred," admitted Bruce. Alfred could see that his master was confused and troubled, he probably isn't aware that his greatest enemy might have feelings for him.

"Might I suggest something sir?" recommended the poised but considerate servant. Bruce met his eyes; open to anything that could possibly help him out of this maze of mixed up emotions and disordered thoughts. "Well, it's up to you; but I suggest you talk to him about it. I think it hard because of his evident crazed mind, but he can articulate his thoughts enough to engage in conversation."

"You don't know him like I do, he's impossible to deal with," muttered Bruce in defeat.

"That's why I propose you play it his way and not as the demanding detective," responded Alfred as an idea came to mind.

* * *

Joker was pacing back and forth in the cell for the last three or so hours, he wasn't sure anymore he'd lost count. Why was he acting so strange and so not like himself? It must be the room, he thought, he always did hate being cooped up for long periods of time. He could always try to escape; it shouldn't be all that difficult. But, deep down he honestly did want to stay. He was so close to his knight in black kevlar armor, closer than he ever was before. And he didn't even have to rob a bank or blow up the city, no schemes, no crime; just him and Bruce. "Oh what's the point anyway, I chased off my little bat. There's no way he's coming back in here," sighed the clown to himself as he ceased his incessant pacing and fell back into bed in defeat. Just then when he thought all hope was lost he heard the metal door to his cell open. He immediately sat up to see it was Bruce in his Batman costume except he didn't have the cape or cowl on and he was carrying a tray with a plate of stewed meat and potatoes with a tall glass of iced tea and what seemed like a deck of playing cards. "Well praise the lord my prayers have been answered," smiled the jester softly to himself.

"What did you say?" questioned the bat as he set the food in front of him.

"I said, I wasn't expecting you back today," Joker lied with a grin.

"It's six o'clock, I'm not about to let you starve," commented Bruce.

"You don't say…" wow he really lost track of time it's been well over seven hours. "Well anyways what's with the cards Bats?" he asked as he began eating his meal.

"I thought we could play a game," responded Bruce innocently as he got the fresh cards out of the pack.

"A game?!" he spoke with surprise, Batman never liked to play games. "Wait what's the catch?" asked the clown as he continued eating waiting for the detective to explain himself.

"We're going to play 21, we wager to ask a number of questions, the highest you can ask is five, winner gets his answered," explained the knight.

Sounded simple enough, mused the madman as he took sips at his drink. "So let me get this straight, if I win a round you'll answer anything I want? Honestly and truthfully?" asked Joker as he set the tray aside, deeming he'd had enough of the delicious food and was ready to play.

"So long as you abide by same rules Joker, then yes."

"Goody, then let's play! Mind if I shuffle?" Batman handed Joker the deck. Joker immediately removed the unnecessary joker cards not needing them to play this game and began shuffling the cards. Bruce had to admit the madman's skill with cards were very impressive. He admired how Joker's long white fingers handled the cards as he shuffled the cards with ease and finesse. "So what will you wager?"

"One question."

"Ditto, my dear bat," smiled Joker as he handed the cards. Bruce's pair got him a total of fifteen. The Joker had nineteen.

"Hit me," stated Bruce confidently. The jester complied as he gave his bat another card. It was a five of spades, giving Bruce the win.

"Alright you win, ask me anything Batsy," smiled Joker. The detective didn't know whether Joker would lie right at the beginning, he decided to play it safe.

"What's your inmate number in Arkham?"

"0801." He simply stated. Ok, so far so good. The next round Joker won, and that same round they each bet a single question. "What's your favorite color?" Was Joker serious? Maybe he was playing it safe too, testing the detective's honesty.

"I like black," replied Bruce.

"Well technically black's not a color, it's a shade, but all right," smiled the jester.

A few more rounds passed each of them asking simple and factual questions. It was time to get serious. "I'll bet one question," stated the Dark Knight.

"Likewise," replied The Clown Prince. Bruce won the round; he thought it best to start pressing the clown for some information.

"How many escape routes do you have in Arkham?" asked Bruce.

"Ooooh, playing hardball eh? All right, I have five escape routes out of the madhouse," smiled Joker. Great, now Bruce just needed to win another round to find their locations. "Let me guess, you bet five questions now?" Batman merely responded with a nod. "Okay, I'll stick with the one," stated the clown as he passed the cards. The bat had nineteen, the madman had eighteen, Joker took one more card and it was the three of hearts. "Lucky, me looks like I win," he smiled. Bruce was ready for whatever the jester was about to ask. "So, why did you leave me that night you embraced me to calm me down?" he asked with a sly but subtle smile.

Bruce wasn't really that prepared for that question. But he was obligated to answer honestly. He let out a sigh and began expressing his thoughts. "To be honest I'm not entirely sure. It was so strange seeing you that way. No offense but it honestly scared me; I wasn't sure what to do."

"I see, well I always knew my little bat was a bit unsure of himself… next round?" Joker said as he shuffled the cards without even looking at him, as if he wasn't satisfied with that answer. The next round Bruce won and got the locations of Joker's escape routes. He recorded the clown's description of each location and was surprised the ingenuity the jester had. He made note of checking these places later and sealing these escapes. "Sheeesh, can't stop thinking about work can you?" said the pale man rhetorically.

"Excuse me?" questioned the detective.

"Well, all you've asked me so far, aside from the first rounds where we were both trying to see if the other would lie are questions about work. I should've known better, you can never just play it's always work with you," answered bitterly as he handed the cards. "I'll bet one."

"Same," responded Bruce coolly. Maybe he should get off the subject of work. The whole point was to get Joker to confide in him honestly so he could get answers for all that's happened the last few days. Joker won that round, Bruce would have to wait to get his answers.

"You took up this whole Batman gig because of what happened to your parents right, what I want to know is why, aren't there easier ways to help this accursed city?"

Bruce swallowed hard; he really didn't want to talk about this, not to Joker at least. But since Joker was being so honest he couldn't back down exactly. "I became Batman because… what happened to me, after I lost them, I didn't ever want that to happen to someone else. As Bruce Wayne I can't stop crime, but as Batman I can do so much more," confessed Bruce.

"A lot of the people you protect claim you do more harm than good, doesn't that ever get to you? Ooops! Sorry, just remembered I already asked my one question. All right next round I'll keep it short and sweet and stick with the one, how about you sweetheart?"

"Same," Bruce repeated. "But I will answer your last question outside this game. It does get to me when I hear them say I am responsible for Gotham's grief when all I try to do is help. It makes me doubt my own actions, my whole reason, and my whole creed to save this city. Sometimes they do make me think I'm responsible, that I just created more problems."

"Like me…" said the jester softly. Bruce looked at the man that represented what most called his first mistake as Batman. The moment he let the nameless man in the Red Hood disguise fall into the canal of chemicals he unleashed a raving madman onto Gotham. But he couldn't tell Joker that, he wasn't sure how said madman would handle it. In a way Joker knew that the man in black felt directly responsible for whatever mayhem he caused in the city, but he kept his thoughts to himself and went on with the game. The Joker won yet another round and stared at the bat's unmasked face. Bruce was a bit frustrated, there were a few things he wanted to hear from Joker; he wanted to know about the Joker's dream, about these strange vibes he's been getting, but most of all he wanted an explanation about this morning, more specifically that passionate kiss between them. From all these clues and signs he was getting the feeling that his greatest and deadliest enemy was actually in love with him, or playing a very sick game with him. He didn't want to assume either; he wanted to hear it directly from the Joker's mouth. But if he kept losing this game he'd never find out.

"Does it make you sad Batsy, how alone you really are?" asked Joker with a quiet smile.

Bruce was taken aback by the question, what did he mean alone? "What are you talking about Joker?"

"How you struggle day after day fighting for others when in the end you're just so utterly alone," explained the jester further.

"I'm not alone I have Alfred and Jim and…"

"Oh I'm not saying that you don't have friends or your butler to have by your side and care about you. What I meant was that you're alone because none of them understand you," said Joker in between smiles and giggles. "How many times have they wished death on me, how many times have they doubted your actions and thought it would be so much easier if you just fixed your mistake and got rid of me? None of them understand how you see things, but I do, I see. Yet you won't let me in, you push the only one that can understand and that's why I say you're alone."

Bruce didn't want to play this game anymore; he put the cards back with the deck and got up. "I'm done."

"That's right walk away, I was counting cards anyway," grinned Joker.

Bruce turned and faced Joker with shocked but angry eyes. "What did you say?!"

"You heard me, you said I couldn't lie but never said I can't cheat in other ways. You only won because I let you have a few rounds," laughed the clown. Bruce came back to the cot and stood over the smiling madman. He grabbed Joker by the collar and raised him to his level. "Why so angry Bats?" Joker cooed innocently.

"I know why you cheated Joker," responded Bruce in a low growl. "You cheated because you have nothing to confess to me, nothing personal you wanted to say."

"What are you talking..."

"I opened myself to you, revealed things about myself I usually don't speak with others and you cheated because you can't do the same! You're empty Joker, you have nothing inside you and when you knew I would ask, you tried to hide and avoid it. You have NOTHING, you are empty Joker; do you hear me EMPTY! Even if you wanted to you can never connect with anyone, so in reality you're the one who is alone," Bruce said darkly and full of contempt.

Joker wasn't smiling anymore, he glared at Batman intently. He kept his teeth gritted tight and clenched his fists. "Don't you have a city to save or something!?" he said in a low but menacing whisper. Bruce shoved the clown back onto the cot and stormed off. Once out the cell he put on his cape and cowl to complete himself as Batman.


	12. Chapter 12: Contradictions

_**Author's Notes: Wow! Over 2,000 views that's amazing I'm soooo happy XD! I really didn't expect to get this many views honestly. Please I'd appreciate to get some reviews to know how the story is going, hope you enjoy. BTW I based locations and stuff for Arkham from the Batman Arkham Asylum video game. After passing it like 5 times because my little brother kept erasing my data, I almost consider myself an expert from having to run around like a lunatic around the game. (Though I will admit I still get lost sometimes cuz I suck at reading maps lol XD).**_

* * *

Batman sure had a lot of work on his plate tonight; he even had to call in Nightwing and Oracle to help him seal off and get coordinates for all of Joker's escape routes. Most of them were in old and forgotten parts of the island. Gotham might sleep soundly for once seeing the inmates' only means of escaping Arkham are being permanently closed off.

"_The next escape route, from what you described, should be over the west side of the Intensive Treatment building,"_ spoke Oracle through Batman's communication link.

"Thanks Oracle, I'm heading over right now," replied Bruce as he rushed off to Arkham North.

"_Nightwing, there's one next to you in between the docks and the Penitentiary,"_ she added via the three way connection.

"_I'm on it,"_ reported Nightwing as he made his way to Arkham West. These were the last two routes that needed to be closed off; the warden was more than happy to agree to Batman and his team to search the island. Anything to ensure there would be no more escape attempts was an ease off his mind. That reminded Bruce, he was going to have to compile evidence later to report to the city officials about the abuse that went on within the asylum's walls. But right now his focus was on containing the patients inside Arkham. Evidently, he didn't do this in time, it seems that Harley Quinn managed to escape earlier that day before Batman and Nightwing had arrived. That was a job for another night; Bruce just hoped the crazed clown sidekick would stay quiet tonight. It took them nearly five hours to locate and seal off these intricate hideaways, even with Oracle's detailed map of the island.

"_Hey Batman, you never told me how you found out about these places,"_ said Oracle, interrupting the bat's thought process.

"_Yeah, with all these tunnels and routes off the island closed off, the bad guys will find it impossible to get out. How did you know where all of them would be?"_ questioned Nightwing.

"I've been doing some background work on Arkham in my spare time lately and stumbled upon these weak points in some old schematics for the asylum," Bruce lied as he finished his job by the Intensive Treatment building. He hadn't told them about the Joker nor was he ever. Bruce wasn't all entirely sure how they'd handle it.

"_It's been a bit quiet in Gotham since the clown has escaped Arkham, huh?"_ stated Nightwing.

"_Well I really hate waiting for him to make his move, just wondering when he'll strike just gives me anxiety,"_ commented Oracle.

"_Are you any worried that the Joker might strike, Batman?"_ asked his former ward.

"I'm not all too concerned; if Joker had anything planned we would've heard from him by now," spoke Bruce. Another lie, sometimes he wondered if he could ever confide with his young cohorts. In reality he knew the Joker wouldn't be appearing anytime soon because he's locked in a cell in the Batcave.

"_It still worries me when he's loose; no one is safe when that madman is out,"_ sighed Oracle. That's right, she's had a close encounter with the Joker and though she made it out alive, she can never walk again after the clown had shot her spine. That memory led to a tangent of what Bruce witnessed a few days ago, how he saw Joker talking to Barbara's old costume and about she would still hold a grudge and never forgive him. Even if he were to apologize for all his atrocities that he has committed on her and her family, she would still hold onto her hate and his remorse would fall on deaf ears.

"_Hey I'm done on my end, do you need any help with the whole Harley Quinn deal Batman?"_ inquired Nightwing breaking Bruce out of his thoughts.

"No, I'm probably going to call it a night. Quinn won't act without instruction from the Joker and no one in Gotham's underground has heard from him in days," stated the detective.

"_Well I hope you bring them both in soon, with all these escape routes sealed off we won't have to worry about that monstrosity ever leaving the asylum again,"_ commented Oracle bitterly.

"Barbara, Dick, I have a question for you both… why do you think I haven't killed the Joker?" spoke Bruce quietly but keeping to his persona. It was really eating him up inside, Joker called him alone though he had people around him that cared for him. That they don't understand why Bruce or Batman believes in the things he does and abides by his creed. He had to know, do they know why he refuses to take the clown's life, or any life for that matter?

"_Why the sudden question?"_ asked Nightwing.

"I was just wondering lately, been thinking about it since I've had some time on my hands," replied Bruce.

"_I think it's because you don't want to be like him. That if you ever do manage to kill him that you become something as wicked. But if I can be honest, I think that it would do Gotham a huge favor by making sure he never hurts anyone again_," responded Oracle.

"_Same goes for me,"_ agreed Nightwing.

"I see… just needed to hear both your input. I'm going to go back and get some rest and try to catch Joker and Harley Quinn's trail tomorrow night," answered Bruce as he made his way back to the Batmobile.

"_All right let us know if you need anything else,"_ said Oracle.

"_See you later, keep in touch if you ever need me to come back to Gotham and lend you a hand,"_ replied Nightwing.

Bruce closed the communication link and sighed as he got in his vehicle. "So they really don't understand me after all," said Bruce sadly to himself. That's not the reason he wanted to hear from them. Joker was right; his fictive Bat-family didn't understand his reasoning at all. Sure there was that fear that he would turn into something awful because succumbing to that darkness would be just too easy. But that wasn't the main point why he hasn't killed Joker. Deep down, Bruce was still holding out for that small glimmer of hope that the Joker can be rehabilitated. It seemed like a lost cause, everyone has pretty much given up that thought and labeled him a monster. But deep down, beyond the madness, Bruce still wanted to hope that there was something that can be saved. In his mind, it would be too easy to give up on Joker, no matter how wicked and cruel his actions were he was still human. That's why on that night, after the madman had already shot Barbara and tortured Jim he still reached to Joker and offered him help. Even after Joker told him that there was no turning back for the clown; Bruce still held onto that hope. Every moment where he lost his temper and beat Joker's face into a bloody pulp, he would have regret afterwards. Because it means even he sometimes loses sight on the same ideals he believes in. He merely sighed, turned on the ignition and drove off back to the cave.

* * *

It was midnight and Alfred was just about to turn in after completing his daily tasks. He took a bit longer tonight because he was on the lookout to see if his master would emerge from the cave and tell him what occurred with Joker and if his little suggestion worked. But seeing the hour, the butler inferred that his master had donned his costume and went on his nightly rounds. Curiosity finally got the better of Alfred as he found himself going into the cave to at least see if he could get some answers from the madman in the cell. He should still be up at this hour; it seemed that Joker didn't sleep at all unless you knocked him out by force. Once by the computer, Alfred looked to the screen and his eyes widened. Joker was on the ground by the door with blood pooling by his head!

Alfred rushed to the cell and opened the door to aid the fallen clown. Immediately his skills as a former medic kicked in as he assessed the damage. From the blood stains on the door and the gash on the pale man's forehead the butler was able to discern that Joker did this to himself. But why on earth would he? It couldn't have been Bruce because even if he'd lost his temper and taken his rage out of the Joker he would've called for help immediately. And judging by the jester's condition he'd been like this for hours. His breathing was faint and he was unconscious. Most likely he was concussed; the worst case scenario was he fractured his skull. Either way, Alfred cautiously picked up the broken clown, moved him to the medical table outside the cell and went to work.

* * *

Bruce finally came back to the cave around one in the morning. In that hour Alfred worked diligently to treat Joker's injury. Luckily for the clown he didn't do anything too serious to himself, but that wound did require stitches and he did require help breathing. One things for sure though, Joker wasn't going to get up anytime soon. As the Batmobile pulled in and Bruce hopped out he saw Alfred waiting for him. "Alfred? What are you doing up?" questioned Bruce as he pulled off his mask.

"Master Bruce, I think we should talk," said Alfred as he began walking off. Bruce followed and saw the door to Joker's cell wide open.

"Where's Joker!?" he called out in surprise.

"He's over here. I left the door open to air out the disinfectants I had to use to clean his blood off the door and floor," answered the butler as he walked. Blood?! Bruce's heart sank at that word, just what went on while he was away? Alfred led him to the medical bed where Joker used to sleep and there Bruce saw him. His head was bandaged; he was hooked to an intravenous drip, and there was an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

"Alfred, what happened?" asked Bruce softly.

"Come with me, there's something you should see," responded Alfred as he walked to the computer. "I looked at the security footage and saw your little card game gone awry, Master Bruce," said the butler as his master sat on the chair. "I tried to look further but it seems you've erased any footage before," he added. It was true; since he moved Joker to the cell he erased all his encounters with Joker so no one would see his moments of weakness between the two. He was ashamed and knew no one would understand him for comforting and especially kissing the madman. "Here, this is what I wanted you to see," sighed the worried butler as he pulled up the footage that captured what Joker had done to himself.

* * *

Joker was lying on the cot after Bruce had pushed him and left. For twenty minutes all he did was lay there, staring angrily and blankly at the ceiling. He finally began breathing hard and closed his eyes shut. His pale hands gripped the sheets beneath him as he finally let out a shrill and pain filled scream! The clown got up and began tearing into the blankets and covers ripping them apart with his bare hands. He grabbed the corners of the mattress and flung the entire thing across the cell. He paced back and forth muttering something to himself over and over again, so softly that the cameras couldn't hear. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the room and ran shaking hands through his wild green hair. "_I'm not – empty…"_ he said between labored and erratic breaths. He shielded himself away from the camera's gazed as his whole body quivered. "_I'M NOT EMPTY!"_ he cried. Joker walked to the metal door and was smiling in between tears. "_I know there's something in here, something deep in my head that I have to find,"_ he said in between soft laughter. His smile turned into a sharp and angry scowl as he flung his head against the door. "_There's something there!"_ he screamed as he banged his head again. Over and over he repeated that phrase, as if it was a mantra as he repeated pummeling his head against the door. Blood ran down his stark pale face, dying it red! Bruce cringed but couldn't bare look away as he witnessed Joker hurting himself for something he had said out of spite and anger. After so many times, Joker finally fell back and hit the ground hard. His florescent eyes were out of focus but he was staring at the camera's direction. "_I'm not empty… Bruce. I'm – I'm not…" _eventually Joker lost all consciousness before finishing his weak and hurt filled whispers. And for hours he laid until Alfred had rushed in to help. Bruce couldn't believe what he saw. Joker really took what he had said to heart as he hurt himself. The clown brutally injured himself for something he said to intentionally hurt; Bruce was just so surprised that it did. He didn't want this to happen.

* * *

"Master Bruce, are you all right?" asked Alfred as he saw his master's upset expression.

"He did that, because of something I said. I just keep hurting him," replied Bruce softly, unwilling to look his servant in the eyes.

"The Joker is not well Master Bruce; you can't solely blame this on yourself," assured Alfred.

"Then why do I feel so entirely responsible," responded bitterly Bruce to Alfred's consoling words. There it was again, that feeling of remorse and guilt he would get whenever he would cause the clown pain, but this time it was more personal. Bruce didn't even have to lay a hand on Joker to completely tear him apart.

"Sir, may I ask something?" said Alfred after a small period of silence. Bruce merely looked to his servant with his blue eyes filled with regret. "What does this man mean to you?"

"What do you mean Alfred?" questioned Bruce.

"Well from what I see it's a rather confusing relationship you both have. One moment you two are fighting each other with all you got, causing physical harm to one another and the next thing you still look at this man to save him while he refuses to do away with you for some deranged form of entertainment. That last part I used to think but, I saw something I would never believe if I had not seen it myself."

"And what was that?" asked Bruce, giving Alfred his undivided attention to see where the butler was going with this.

"I saw him cry, it was a fleeting moment of despair on his face but I saw him cry this morning as I came to the computer screen to enter the room to refurbish the cell's cot. He also asked me something while I was there that ties in to my initial question to you," explained Alfred.

"What did he ask you?" Bruce managed to ask, still astonished that the butler saw any vulnerability in Joker. Well it was without the clown's knowledge that Alfred saw but still it was surprising to hear.

"The Joker asked me what it feels like to be in love, sir…" Bruce just remained quiet. That word made his mind draw a blank. Joker really tried to reach for some empathy from Alfred and ask about being in love? Hearing the name Joker and the word 'love' together without 'murder' or 'chaos' in the same sentence was just so strange. "Now I ask you Master Bruce, do you have feelings for this man?"

Bruce hesitated, his mouth felt dry; he wasn't sure what to say. He then looked over back to where the broken and pale clown lay and saw the aftermath of what his hurtful words caused. He sighed and hanged his head low, unable to even answer that question in the uncertainty of his own mind. "I don't know Alfred, I just don't know," admitted Bruce softly and so unsure. Alfred rested a hand on his troubled master's shoulder, when Bruce looked up he saw the butler smile an assuring smile.

"Then I suggest you think things through, the answer will come to you. If and when it does, I'll be here to try to support you, Master Bruce."

'Try' was the standout word; of course Alfred would not accept whatever he felt for Joker entirely but Bruce felt he could breathe easier through the haze of his mind for the moment with Alfred's help. "Thank you. It's getting rather late, you should get some rest," replied Bruce showing his servant and fatherly figure gratitude.

"What about you? You know you need to be well rested for tomorrow's board meeting, Mr. Fox can't cover for you forever you know," reminded Alfred.

"I'm just going to stay a bit longer; I'll be up in a minute," assured the billionaire in the bat costume.

Alfred dismissed himself and retired to his room back at the manor level. Once gone, Bruce closed down the recording of Joker and walked to the pale man himself. He stood there a while staring down at the damaged and frail looking clown. He really wanted to apologize to him, he found himself doing that a lot lately. First it was when Bruce strangled and threw him across the cave, next it was yelling at him when he was merely playing a game with Alfred, and now this. Was he that horrible with his temper? Can he really be blamed though? All those times, one way or another, Joker instigated his rage. And after all the damage this man has caused him and his city, was Joker even worth the apology? There he went again, doubting his own thoughts and ideals; Bruce was a mess of contradictions. His emotional state wasn't any better. He merely grabbed a chair and sat next to Joker's bedside. He took this image in for a moment, this moment of his unconscious enemy, lying eerily still; his chest moving shallowly as the only indication of life. Bruce took his cold white hand in his and stared at the very broken in more than one way pale man. "We just keep hurting each other don't we?" he asked him softly, knowing all well he wouldn't get an answer. All this was just so confusing; Bruce really wished he had someone to guide him to the answer to all this confusion and hurt.


	13. Chapter 13: Change in Perception

_**Author's Notes: Man this story really has been my main priority lately. I honestly did this for fun but I've been neglecting my own projects like my story Moon's Curse. It's a trilogy about my OC's Raven Nevermore and her half demon love Damien Hawthorne and their battles with forces from the underworld that I've been working on since my sophomore year in high school which was about 5 years ago. Heh, my editor/artist/friend/slave-driver was kind enough to let me take a break from our story in order to write this fanfic. I do really appreciate the support and praise I've been getting; hopefully I can find a balance with these projects so I won't have to delay this one. Anyways, enjoy the story :)**_

* * *

For the past three days Joker did not once regain consciousness. Bruce was really beginning to worry, but his butler ensured that there was no serious trauma and that he was probably resting since he never did naturally sleep. Each day when he was done with board meetings at Wayne Enterprises or attending some charity function he would return to the cave and sit by his sleeping adversary. He would remain there until nightfall when his duty to Gotham would tear him from the unconscious clown's side. Bruce has heard from somewhere that someone in a comatose state was still aware of their surroundings, so he had Alfred bring in a small television. When Batman would leave to do his nightly rounds around the city, he'd turn on the TV to some Bugs Bunny cartoons or the news while he was gone.

Tonight he was going to bring in Harley Quinn back to Arkham. For the last few days he's caught her trail through the whispers of Gotham's underground. He heard that she was hiring a bunch of goons and thugs to comb the city for her lost clown and find him by any means necessary. Bruce didn't like the sound of that; he could tell the sidekick was getting frantic and desperate to find the Joker. He's also heard a bunch of rumors about the Clown Prince's whereabouts, most of them leaking from Arkham. Some were saying that Batman finally snapped and killed the clown and hid his body somewhere so no one would find evidence of his deed. Others say that it's some deal that Warden Sharp and Gotham's police force had going on and they had Joker locked away somewhere for experimentation. Two Face began proudly proclaiming that it was he who shot and killed Joker and that the police just threw the body in the city dump. When no evidence to support any story came through, that's when people's theories got a little farfetched and just silly. Those who believed Two Face thought that maybe the Joker was now a zombie and walked away, that's why a body wasn't found. Other's thought that Joker was a ghost now haunting the walls of the asylum. Were people honestly that dumb? Then again most of those rumors were coming from the madhouse. When it was time for Bruce to leave he donned on his costume and turned on the TV for the clown. "I'll be back soon okay," he said softly. Joker same as before didn't respond. Bruce merely went to the Batmobile and drove out of the cave.

* * *

For these last three days Bruce really took what Alfred said to heart and contemplated his feelings towards the Joker. He thought a lot about it and even when his priorities lied elsewhere he still had the jester in the back of his thoughts. It was hard, some things he still wasn't even entirely sure about. He felt that he needed the Joker to fill in some gaps for him. Besides, Bruce wasn't even sure what Joker thought about him. The evidence was there but the detective didn't want to assume anything until he heard it with his own ears directly from the clown's mouth.

"_Batman, I've got a lock on Harley Quinn's location. She and a bunch of thugs are at the abandoned LaffCo. Toy Factory at 3__rd__ and Main Street,"_ said Oracle her voice coming from a communication feed, bringing him back to reality and to his current objective.

He heard about reports of excessive foot traffic at the factory from the GCPD and had Oracle look into it. His suspicions paid off, this was where the crazed clown lackey was hold up and gathering support. "Have Nightwing call the police to have them surround the area and for him to meet me on the roof of the factory," ordered Batman.

"_All right, I'm on it,"_ responded Oracle as she turned off the connection. He needed to focus, his priority needed to be on work.

"_Sheeesh, can't stop thinking about work can you?"_ he heard the clown's voice in his mind. Not now, all his focus needs to be with bringing Harley back to the asylum. He rushed to an alleyway a few blocks from the factory and grappled to its rooftop to find Nightwing already there.

"How many are inside?" questioned Batman.

"Aside from Harley, probably twenty hired hands for her plan. No sign of the Joker," reported Nightwing. Well that last part was to be expected, Joker hasn't so much open his eyes in three days let alone be out and about in Gotham since he was in the detective's care.

"How long before the police arrive?" demanded the Dark Knight.

"About ten minutes, think it'll be enough time to clean up shop?" said his former ward rhetorically.

"Plenty," replied the bat with a half smirk. The two vigilantes busted through a huge glass window pane that encased the meeting place of Harley Quinn's little search party. Almost immediately the clown themed thugs open fire on the duo. Batman landed on three men and knocked them out. Nightwing sweep kicked two of them and leapt at two more to get their weapons. All the gun men were taken out and their weapons dismantled simultaneously, the rest of the clowns had bats and iron pipes in their clutches. They surrounded the heroes while Harley Quinn stood on a platform confident that her goons could handle two costumed men.

"Damn it Bats! What the hell's wrong with ya! I'm only trying to find my poor lost puddin' and you and Bird Boy took out a good chunk of my guys!" cried the distraught female jester.

"If you're only going to look for the Joker, then why did those men have guns?" questioned Nightwing.

"Well I know this damn city won't take me seriously, so you gotta use force sometimes to get what you want. Whoever gets in my way is gonna get their heads blasted!"

"You know you won't get away with this, all these men are going to Black Gate and you're going back to Arkham," stated Batman as he and Nightwing got into their fighting stances and cautiously eyed the group of goons.

"Not until I find Mistah J!" cried Harley as she gripped the handle of her oversized hammer. Her thugs immediately went on the offensive and charged the two vigilantes. Metal and wood were swung and thrown at the two, but they dodged their aggressive attacks with precision and ease. One by one the muscular henchmen were knocked out with powerful and well landed punches and kicks. Some were tripped by batarangs aimed at their heels while others felt the powerful blow of Nightwing's batons. Batman lost his footing when a guy managed to get a good shot at him with a pipe from behind, Harley took the opportunity to swing her hammer at the Dark Knight's head. He went down and before he could try to stand the harlequin was already over him holding the hammer high above her head. Nightwing was busy holding his own against the remaining guys.

"Give him back! I want Mistah J back!" she cried.

"What are you – talking about?" the detective asked managing to clear his vision after being hit with a hammer that felt like a ton of bricks.

"I've heard the rumors Bat-brain everyone's saying you finally got him and killed him! I want him back you took him away!" she screamed hysterically.

"I didn't. I don't kill and you know it!" argued Batman.

"LIAR!" she let out a shrill yell and was about to bring down the hammer on the bat's head! Suddenly the doors of the factory flung open and Commissioner Gordon and a team of Gotham's finest rushed in, aiming their guns at Harley and her men.

"Freeze! Drop your weapons and put your hands up! You're completely surrounded!" ordered the commissioner.

Harley dropped her weapon and she and the conscious henchmen reluctantly did as they were told, seeing it was hopeless to struggle.

The police arrested the twenty hired thugs and just as they were about to take Harley Quinn away she looked sadly to the Batman. "I was just worried Bats, I haven't heard from him in a while now. It's like he fell off the face of the earth. I don't wanna believe what people are saying, but I gotta know, did ya do it Batman?" she spoke softly, her voice full of sadness.

"No. Don't worry about the Joker, he'll turn up. He always does," he answered. It was rather hard not being able to ease her mind from the Joker. She was utterly devoted to him no matter what abuse he makes her endure. All she wanted was some security that the man she loved and dedicated herself to was still alive.

"Yeah, he always does, do he?" she smiled slightly as she was taken away back to Arkham.

"Have you had any luck locating the Joker?" asked Commissioner Gordon as he approached the vigilante. Bruce had to anchor his thoughts back to work; he looked to Nightwing and the commissioner.

"Not at all," Batman simply responded.

"That sneaky bastard sure is elusive," commented Nightwing.

"I just want that clown back in Arkham; sure will save me a lot of stress in the office and on the streets," replied Gordon.

"We'll let you know if anything on him comes up," added Batman as he and Nightwing left the scene and let the GCDP handle the arrests.

* * *

Batman came into the Batcave around ten, the night was young but there was no other big crimes being committed. With Harley Quinn back at Arkham, there were no other asylum patients on the outside, well aside from the Joker. But he was unconscious under Batman's care. When the Batmobile came to a full stop and the bat clad in black came out, pulled off his cowl and cape then he heard a familiar voice greet him.

"Hey Batsy, about time you came home!" called out a high falsetto voice.

Bruce immediately dropped his cape and cowl and rushed over to where he left the sleeping clown. Once there he saw that Joker was wide awake and watching TV. "Joker, are you okay?" he found himself asking.

"Well aside from feeling a bit nauseated and tired I'm peachy keen," smiled tiredly the jester. He saw the concern in his bat's blue eyes and thought to just dismiss it. "Saw you on the news, still got the moves I see. I was a bit worried that you might be rusty since I haven't kept you on your toes for some time now."

"Can we please talk," stated the knight as he turned off the television. Joker began to eye the man suspiciously but again dismissed his rather strange behavior.

"Sure Bats, there was nothing good on anyway, just that damn nosey Vale showing highlight reels of you taking out my little minx and the goons she hired," he chuckled.

Bruce took a seat by the Joker's bedside and stared deeply with his striking blue eyes. The jester looked away unable to meet those eyes, he had a feeling where this conversation was heading. "I want to know, why? Why did you…"

"You want to know why did I beat my head senseless until I bled and into unconsciousness?" Joker finished his question. His bat merely nodded, Joker sighed and was able to meet his concerned gaze. "I couldn't stop thinking of what you said, I wanted to – I just wanted to… prove I wasn't empty," he explained with a sad and lost expression. He let a small smile slip and laughed softly. "I can't remember. Heh, I've said once before that if I was going to have a past I prefer it to be multiple choice. You just made me realize that sometimes I wish that I had an answer key, at least for me. I know the answer is deep inside my head, I just thought I could force it out," he smiled faintly.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean to…"

"You shouldn't be sorry. Own up to what you said. You know that's what bothers me about you Batsy, you do one thing and you doubt yourself. I made you angry and you said some things and I pummeled my head on a door, there is nothing to apologize for," interrupted the jester.

"But I am sorry! I don't want to hurt you anymore!" argued Bruce.

"Why the hell not?! I still hurt you!" screamed back the Joker. Bruce needed to take control of the situation he could feel that both he and Joker were clashing again. He wanted this to stop; he didn't want any more fights with this man.

"Please answer me something Joker, I need to know. I don't want another lie. What do you see between us? I don't understand you," pleaded Bruce unwilling to further his fight and feed his rage.

"You never did. No one does, but you're the closest one. It's hard you know, feeling this way. I'm not even sure I understand this feeling either," replied Joker as he put a hand to his head. The man was broken and seemed so utterly lost; it was something so surreal to Bruce. "I hate you, but at the same time I feel something else. It feels like my heart might stop because it's racing so fast in my chest. I feel warm when we touch when I usually feel so cold by myself. Just you, you're the only one who does this to me, and I don't even know what it is," he admitted.

Bruce then took the prince's hand into his own and held it tightly to show Joker that he was there to console him. "I don't want there to be more fighting between us okay. Can we just talk," said Bruce gingerly. Joker managed to smile a bit, Bruce really liked seeing a normal smile instead of a deranged grin on his face. "I want to try to understand you."

"What's there to understand, I'm just your average crazy homicidal clown who tries his hardest to bring a smile on Gotham's face." he began to joke.

"No, I meant the man behind the clown. It's only fair right, since you know the man behind the bat," said Bruce. Joker was still smiling but his green eyes had a misplaced feeling to them.

"That man is as good as dead Bruce. I don't clearly remember that part of my life," the clown answered.

"Clearly?" questioned the detective.

"You just pick up every little detail of what I say don't you. Well I remember different stories of what my life was like. Some of them are lies while others make a bit sense but I'm not able to discern which is which. Maybe some of those memories hold truth or maybe I fabricated them all, I just don't know," explained Joker. Bruce earnestly felt bad for him, it must be hard not remembering.

"I'm sorry to hear that," apologized Bruce. Joker looked at him and saw that Bruce was disappointed since he couldn't share like his bat did.

"Would you like to hear about what I was dreaming about these last few days while I was in my comatose state?" asked Joker. Bruce looked up with interest and a bit surprised that Joker was willing to open up. "Well I saw a few memories play out a bit clearer than usual. In one memory I was a child with a very abusive father. He would beat me and each time he'd say, "Just wait 'til you're eighteen boy." Mother didn't do a thing when this happened. The day I turned eighteen I knew what was coming and I decided to act first. I took the knife away from mother that she was gonna use to cut my cake and stabbed him eighteen times, I stabbed him for each year of abuse he'd put me through. There's a different scenario I recall, the story went a bit differently. I was a boy with no friends but had an interest in biology. I would catch the neighbors' cats or dogs and mutilate them to better see their insides. I was only happy when I saw their blood rush out and all their organs up close. Mother and father didn't like it one bit and they would scold and beat me, threatening me that they would send me away to the police. I burned them alive and ran away from home at the age of fifteen where I joined a traveling circus. Different stories, there are many more similar and completely different from them, I'm not sure myself."

"Do you by any chance remember something from when before you were the Red Hood?" asked Bruce, still reeling from the rather disturbing childhood memories the clown recalled.

"You mean before I was baptized in the searing chemicals and emerged reborn as the Joker?" asked Joker with a wide grin. Bruce merely nodded. "Well same as my childhood, I remember various stories that led me to our first and fateful dance on the catwalk before my dip in that chemical bath. In one memory I recall being a ruthless gangster with a grand reputation for my skills and temper. I worked my way up from nothing and became the boss of my crime family. I paved my way to the top with bodies and blood, the violence made me happy. One day I had heard chumps using the Red Hood persona to baffle police so I donned that silly red helmet and pulled off a heist at the Ace Chemical Plant. You know the rest of the story from there."

"Do all your stories have violence?" asked the detective already seeing the common theme of violence in the form of murder and abuse.

"There is one that isn't," admitted Joker as he looked away as if he was remembering in that moment.

"How does that story go?" asked Bruce, genuinely interested in hearing the jester's tale.

"I remember a man, who was not happy. He was an overworked chemist who was employed at the chemical plant. He was married to a beautiful woman named Jeanie, who loved him and would always laugh at his jokes. The man was happy with her but not with his life, he felt unfulfilled. He wanted to make people laugh just like he would make Jeanie laugh. He just wanted to brighten people's lives and make them smile. He quit his job to pursue being a comedian. He failed miserably; he and his wife lived a poor life in the slums of Gotham. Struggling to find any money to support his now pregnant wife, he got in deep with the mob. Two greedy men forced the poor sucker to do bad. When he had enough and wanted to stop for the sake of his beloved Jeanie and their baby, they twisted his arm and just asked for one more gig at the chemical plant. That night the man lost his wife and the baby. The police said it was an accident, a baby bottle overheated on the stove and exploded. He lost his only happiness and agreed to help the greedy men get into his old place of employment. That man put on the Red Hood disguise and well same as before, you know how the story goes from there," explained Joker with those same lost eyes but this time his smile was gone from his lips.

Bruce was just at a loss of words. This story was so different from the ones before. It was about a man dealt a bad hand at life and lost his whole family in one night. A devoted husband, a soon to be father, it just seemed so tragic. There was one thing that bothered Bruce; he wanted a name to connect. "Do you remember your name?"

"No. Names are the same as my memories, different and never the same," stated the Joker.

"Did that man from that story have a name?" asked Bruce.

"Oh, Brucey. You'd like to believe that was me right, it's just a story you know. It doesn't change the clown that I am now," responded Joker coming back to reality and remembering his playful self.

"You know my name; I just thought it would be nice to have something to call you aside from the Joker," admitted Bruce. There was a small silence between them; the Clown Prince couldn't bear to leave his Dark knight dissatisfied.

"Jack." he said simply.

"Jack? Jack…" Bruce was trying the name. It had a strange feeling letting such a simple name pass his lips. "That name sounds good for you," complimented the billionaire.

"Well I'm not sure if it was that man's name, it's just a name Bruce it doesn't change a thing. But if it makes you happy you can call me that, only you," the pale man smiled.

"All right Jack," the man in black was faintly smiling as well. The newly named Jack took note that the mood in his usually serious bat had changed. He couldn't help but let his smile widen and not to the famed contorted grin that symbolized death for others, but it was one of genuine joy. There was a slight pause between the two; in that moment Bruce remembered the kiss they shared days ago. He recalled how the smiling man took initiative and planted his red lips on his. In all honesty he wanted an answer for that action but deemed words would ruin their bonding. Instead he decided to test how he felt about kissing those lips again; he leaned in and pecked the clown on the lips, when he pulled away he saw that Jack was staring in disbelief, placing a hand to his lips.

"Wha- what was that?" he asked, seeming way less confident than his usual self. Bruce started to fall back into doubt as he felt his face blush.

"I'm sorry did you not…"

"No, you just – caught me by surprise is all," he answered. He began to laugh a bit seeing Bruce revert to his doubtful tendencies after making such a bold move. "You could've given me a heads up. I really doubt my breath is minty fresh and my smell that of a field of roses right now, my dear bat."

"I don't mind," stated Bruce. The jester merely scoffed and brushed off the billionaire with a smile.

"Sheeesh, don't get all sappy on me Brucey. You should head off to bed now; you got quite the busy life Mr. Wayne."

"All right." Said Bruce as he rose from his sitting place and began to walk off. He turned and saw that Jack was lying back down to try to sleep. "Hey, I really enjoyed our talk, Jack. I trust you outside your cell, so please don't wander off."

"Well I'm not in much condition to really do that. My head spins trying to stay up let alone stand so no worries there Brucey. And I liked talking to you too, hopefully we get to do it again when you're not so busy," smiled Jack.

"I look forward to it," smiled back Bruce. As he ascended the steps back to the manor he felt a little amazed of what occurred between him and Jack. Bruce began to feel that his wish to rehabilitate Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime wasn't so out of reach after all.


	14. Chapter 14: Waiting

**_Author's Notes: So my spring break comes to a close and so does my free time. I'm glad I got so much done for this fanfic the last few days. Man I wish I could just spend my days writing but oh well that's life. Man just a few more weeks before Injustice Gods Among Us comes out, I can't wait! Anyway thank you to all the readers out there for the support, comments/ reviews and just reading in general, the 1_****_st_****_ chapter has like over 700 views so that's good. Who knows maybe when I'm finished with this story I might take a crack at making another BatmanxJoker fanfic, what do you guys think? Leave a comment or review if you're interested or tell me how this story's going. Please and thank you :)_**

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****The next day Alfred was informed that their house guest, that seemed to prove a handful lately, was now awake. Bruce had to rush off to an early meeting and left instruction for him to attend to the clown in the cave. In all honesty Alfred wasn't comfortable with how close his master seemed to be with Gotham's Clown Price of Crime. It seemed like the man forgot of all the death the madman had caused and reveled in. He also seemed to forget how dangerous the clown can be. It almost baffled the faithful butler how much his master had changed the last few days. But without objection he agreed, but still the servant had his obvious concerns.

He descended to the cave with a light breakfast, mostly some toast and a glass of water. He knew that the clown probably couldn't stomach much at the moment since he'd given himself one hell of a concussion. When he came down he saw that the Joker was lying on his side looking terribly ill and as if he had not slept at all that night. "Hey Alfie, Brucey went to work already?" he asked grinning weakly as he sat himself up.

"Yes, Master Bruce took an early leave to work," replied the butler as he set the tray in front of the clown.

"I'm not hungry, I feel off," said the jester as set the tray aside.

"Well that's because you gave yourself a rather nasty concussion and don't get enough sleep," stated Alfred as he handed the pale man the glass of water. "At least drink something, it'll do you some good."

Joker took the drink and took a few sips, feeling his stomach get an odd full feeling, he set the rest aside. "Thanks." Alfred stared incredulously at the madman; did the Joker really just thank him?! "Did I do something wrong?" questioned the clown, catching the butler's surprised expression.

"Forgive me, I just – wasn't…"

"You weren't expecting me to show gratitude to you or anything within those lines? Well I know you're just doing this because Brucey tells you to, but as a man with class and manners I am courteous to those whom show me hospitality," the Joker finished giving him a charismatic smile though his appearance was rather disheveled.

He didn't want to be drawn to a false sense of security with this man, he knew better after all the chaos and death that resulted in this lunatic's theatrics. Alfred will admit he wanted his master to explore what the dynamics of his relationship with the Joker were, but never thought that Bruce would be actually getting closer the clown. "Will you be in need of anything else?"

"Well, I was wondering if you'd be a pal and help me get to a bathroom or something so I can clean myself up. I've been in these clothes for days and would appreciate if I could be allowed to freshen up," smiled wide the jester, his voice sounding so coy but his eyes were sharp, omniscient and gazing upon the poised butler as if he knew something the manservant was trying to hide.

"Very well, I'll escort you," stated Alfred as he helped the Joker on his feet, trying not to let those acid green eyes rattle him. This is the closest he'd ever been to the psychopath, aside from the times he has tended to the clown's wounds. But here he was, defenseless as he walked with the madman over his thin white arm around his shoulder, using the old man as support as they ascended to the manor. If the Joker was feigning weakness, at any moment he could turn around and attack. But as the walk continued the butler was surprised that nothing happened, the Joker hadn't so much as spoken a word. Once inside the grand and teal oceanic themed bathroom, Joker eased his weight off the butler and managed to stand on his own. "I will be back momentarily." The pale man hadn't so much as smiled or acknowledged that Alfred dismissed himself. He was back within a few minutes with fresh towels and a set of new pajamas in his hands. He set them down and was about to leave until the madman finally spoke.

"You're concerned aren't you? For Bruce I mean," said the Joker softly, making the butler freeze in his tracks.

"What do you mean?"

"I know it I can see it in your eyes, you really despise me, which I don't blame you for but you're worried about him being around me so much. You're really afraid he actually feels something," he finally let his famed smile spread across those bloodied lips.

Alfred really had enough not knowing what was going on, he grew tired of speculating and standing aside just assuming. "May I ask you something?" he questioned trying hard not to let that smile scare him or let his collected demeanor slip. The jester merely smiled in silence, the butler merely took it as a yes and continued. "Do you love Master Bruce?"

The question was so straight forward and simple, but the answer seemed so chaotic and unclear in the Joker's mind. His expression softened, his smile grew smaller and his eyes seemed to lose their threatening quality. "I'm not sure what love really is, Alfie. I can tell you want a direct answer and I'll be happy to oblige," he paused for a moment. Joker could see concern for his master's wellbeing written all over his face. The thought of a crazy, psychopathic and murderous clown constantly around his employer must be nerve wrecking. "Yes." Alfred was just in shock and awe. He was completely speechless and unsure of what to do with this information. Joker could sense that the man was at a loss of words, he didn't feel like making a joke out of the situation. "Will that be all?"

"Ummm… yes. I'll – uhhh, leave you to – freshen up," stuttered the butler as he dismissed himself.

"I really hope the old guy doesn't blow a gasket over this, he looked like he was gonna have a heart attack," smiled the madman to himself as he began to unbutton the pajama top. He shed the lavender shirt off and began to pull down the matching bottoms and green briefs. He stepped out of them and took slow strides to the shower. Turning on the water he waited until the water was warm and to his liking. He ran his fingers through the water; it's been ages since he had a nice warm shower. Showers in Arkham seemed to only have a "cold as the Artic" setting. The stark white man entered the shower stall and stood below the pouring water. Man this is just what he needed, he couldn't remember the last time he didn't feel so cold… well there were those times he was in Bruce's arms. Well if it wasn't out there before that he loved the bat it was now.

He washed his hair with some shampoo; he didn't care for the type, just as long as it got his hair clean. Once done he began scrubbing his aching body with soap, carefully avoiding his stitches. Even though the Joker wasn't sure if what he felt was love, it was even more unclear what Bruce felt about him. The man's emotions about these sorts of matters were sure hard to figure out. There was that kiss last night, it was simple and innocent, could that be a clue to figure out the answer to the detective's heart? He'd really have to test that theory later on so he made a mental note of it. Bruce also smiled something that was completely out of character for him. It was faint but genuine. God, why did that man have to be so damn handsome? Even his smile was enough to make the clown's heart race. His huge muscular frame, those dark ebony locks but his eyes were his best features. They were cold and distant like the artic when they lay hidden behind the cowl but they could also be calm and serene like the sea. Those pools of blue seemed the most intense in the storm of his rage which drove the Joker wild just thinking about them. But the Clown Prince didn't mind seeing tranquility in those striking eyes. He could feel a throbbing between his white thighs the more he thought about Bruce.

"Where's Batman when you need him? Wonder if I shine the bat signal I can get laid," he joked as he turned off the water. The clown waited for a moment to will his growing erection away; afterwards he dried himself off and put on the clean clothes. He then went by the huge bathroom mirror and began combing his wild and wet curls. Where his clothes were he found a new toothbrush and some toothpaste. Either the butler was being thorough or the old man was dropping a hint about his breath. Who cared as long as his breath was minty fresh for Bats later right? Once he was finished he took a good look at himself in the mirror, it wasn't his purple suit but it had to do. "Sexy, lean and squeaky clean! I think I'm ready for my Batsy!" he grinned as he playfully struck some poses. "Hmmm, Brucey is gonna be a while at work. I wonder what I should do to kill time."


	15. Chapter 15: Never Forget

**_Author's Notes: Wow! Over 3,000 views for this story! I've never had so much attention for a fanfic before. I'm le happy, ok enough of that let's get on with the show :)! _**

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Bruce returned to the manor a bit earlier than usual; he was almost done with a side project he was working on for the last few days. In all honesty he wasn't in a rush to get home, not like other times when he was so full of worry. Jack was trustworthy to leave to his own accord, well more than the Joker anyway. The billionaire was ecstatic from all the progress he's made with Gotham's infamous clown. The Clown Prince confided him enough to talk about himself. Although they were various stories and Bruce knew there was a possibility they never happened to him, Jack still shared with him instead of avoiding the subject altogether like he did before. Upon returning he immediately went to the cave first to see how his quote on quote guest was feeling. His eyes widened as soon as he saw that the cave was empty. "No, he couldn't have…"

Bruce immediately ascended back up the steps and searched the manor. "Alfred!" he shouted as he frantically stormed throughout the manor. When there was no response his heart sank and he began to assume the worst. How could he be this stupid, how could he let the Joker fool him?! That clown baited him with false hope and betrayed his trust. "ALFRED!"

"Sheeesh, relax Brucey! I think the old man stepped out – something about errands," called out a playful falsetto voice. It was coming from his library he quickly ran to it. He barged in through closed doors and found the clown sitting in a lounge chair with a stack of books by his side. "What got in your batsuit deary? You seem tense," smiled the jester as he put down the book he was reading. Bruce was at a loss of breath and words, he tried desperately calming himself down. "Let me guess, you thought I killed your butler because I wasn't in the cave and you couldn't find Alfie anywhere. I'm hurt Brucey, I thought we were past the whole trust issue thing."

"I thought I told you to stay in the cave?"

"Well I had Alfie show me to a shower, god knows I needed one. And after I was nice and clean I was going to head back downstairs when I overheard the old guy step out, but then I got bored and wanted to catch up on some reading until you came home."

Bruce finally sighed and was calm, so it was all a misunderstanding. "Didn't you promise you'd stay put Jack?"

So, his bat was adamant on referring to him by that name. He smiled and continued with this banter about this whole small scare that the billionaire had. "Didn't you promise that you'd get me some reading material when you went off to work dear? Can you really blame me; I was bored and lonely sweetheart. I was only looking to keep myself entertained for a while."

The detective honestly felt bad for jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst out of him. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough and for assuming something horrible," apologized Bruce.

"No hard feelings Batsy, I don't blame you. After all we've been through it is only natural right?"

Bruce didn't want to dwell on the subject of misplaced trust and doubt any longer. He noted the rather huge stacks of books beside Jack and sat in a chair adjacent to the pale man. "That's quite a lot of books there. Did you read all those while I was gone?"

"Eh, yeah. But really Brucey you have such a boring collection. Much of this garbage almost put me to sleep," stated Jack indifferently as he faked a yawn to further illustrate his point.

"Honestly most of those are for show I keep a separate room for the literature I actually like. What do you like, I might have something in my personal collection that'll interest you," suggested Bruce.

"I like _Twilight _and reading about Edward, he's just so hot. God that could be my next scheme! I should blow up the idiot that wrote such horrible, preteen, pop culture nonsense!"

"Don't you have a thing for bats?" said Bruce with a playful smile.

"Ha ha, very funny. The Batman has some jokes. Well if you must know, I'm rather fond of poetry, any romantic works really."

"I might have some; I'll go look for…"

"Master Bruce, are you home sir?" they both heard all of a sudden. Bruce looked to Jack and the man dismissed him with a pale hand.

"You go on ahead and see what old Alfie boy wants. I'll keep searching here for anything bearable while you're away sweetie," Jack smiled as he got up and began scanning the books on the shelves. Bruce couldn't stop himself from enjoying Jack's company, but it was best if he went to go see what Alfred wanted. He left to not keep his butler waiting.

* * *

He found Alfred in the kitchen setting some groceries on the counter. His jacket seemed damp and Bruce noticed that the butler was carrying an umbrella. "Has it started raining? By the time I got home the skies were grey but nothing too bad."

"It was just a minor drizzle Master Bruce, but the news did say it was going to get drastically cold as the rain picks up later on," stated the butler as he shed his coat and put the umbrella down.

"Well it's a good thing I finished early with work then, I didn't bring a thing for rain. I would've been soaked," smirked Bruce lightheartedly.

"Master Bruce I think we need to talk," said Alfred almost harshly making Bruce drop any amusement and seeing his servant's serious demeanor.

"What's wrong Alfred?"

"I'm not going to beat around the bush any longer sir, what is it you wish to accomplish with the Joker?" the butler demanded.

"Alfred what's gotten into you? I've never heard you like this before."

"Because that madman told me he loves you and I need to know how exactly you view that deranged clown!"

Bruce didn't know how to respond. So much information was being thrown at him. Did Alfred say that the Clown Prince loved him? "Alfred, you don't understand Jack…"

"Jack?! Is that what you're calling that lunatic!?" questioned Alfred. Bruce scolded himself mentally for letting that information slip. "Sir I'm worried for you. In consideration of what you believe in I told you to search how you view your enemy but never did I ever intend for this to happen. Have you forgotten what this madman has done? How he continues to cause rampant chaos and destruction in Gotham, the very city you swore to protect. Have you forgotten the lives he's ruined?! Have you forgotten what the monster did to young Jason and Barbara!?"

"NO! I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN! I CAN NEVER FORGET!" Bruce finally screamed. All this seemed too much. He couldn't take anymore of Alfred reminding him of the many crimes the Joker was responsible for.

Little did the two arguing men know was that the clown they were talking about was listening in. He heard everything the two were saying, tears began streaming from his pale cheeks hearing Bruce scream that he can never forget the sins he has committed. "I knew it, he does hate me after all," whispered Jack to himself as he silently fled the area.


	16. Chapter 16: Cold

**_Author's Notes: Just a few more chapters until the end of When it Rains, I really hope you guys are enjoying the story. I really didn't know what to expect doing my first BatmanxJoker story. I got some new readers, some who review and comment on this site and on deviantART that are really nice and encourage me and this ship. I'm really happy on how far it has gotten. I think I am planning another fanfic after this one is done, maybe. Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter._**

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****No, Bruce hasn't forgotten the horrors and the misery the Joker rained down on the streets of Gotham. He's witnessed firsthand as Batman these atrocities the infamous Clown Prince of Crime has committed. From the many faceless strangers of the city of Gotham, to the more familiar faces of his friends, his young wards, his friends and his family. There was no forgetting any of that. But, through it all he was still going to hold onto the silver lining of hope that the Joker could be able to redeem himself as Jack. "Alfred, please understand. I can never forget any of that. But I just don't want to be driven by my hate for this man."

"Master Bruce…"

"Please let me finish. I haven't forgotten I'm sure I never will be able to. But that doesn't mean I can never forgive him. I want to believe he can change; I want to help him heal. Something happened to him Alfred; he's been hurting long since he fell into the chemical bath that created the Joker. I know he's sick, but I don't want to give up on Jack, not like everyone else."

"Do you truly believe that, Master Bruce?" asked Alfred, still taken aback by his master's confession.

"Yeah, I do."

"And do you believe you are capable to help him while so many others before you who are more qualified in psychiatry than you have failed."

"Yes, I know it sounds impossible. But isn't that what I'm known for? Doesn't Batman do the impossible every night? Doesn't Batman help anyone who is in need of it?"

Alfred let out a huge sigh. He really didn't like how all this sounded, but the confidence in his master's eyes showed the old butler that Bruce was adamant and earnest in his conviction to help the Joker rehabilitate. No matter how unlikely and impossible it all seemed. "I only have one question; do you love this man Master Bruce?"

It felt really awkward talking about this with Alfred, yes he was like a father to him for so many years, but it didn't make it easier to explain. He wanted to tell him everything Jack made him feel. Things he had only felt with a few others like Selina and Talia. But Jack was different, in more ways than just the obvious fact that he was a man. Where they failed and left him because he couldn't leave behind the mask, Jack was someone who truly understood what he stood for, someone who made him feel not so alone in his convictions. But Bruce didn't feel all that comfortable talking about every aspect of his feelings for Jack to the butler. "I do care for him Alfred."

The butler felt a bit dissatisfied with that answer, it got the point across but in an indirect way. Alfred felt a bit hurt that his master did not wish to confide in him wholeheartedly, but in a way he was used to it. "All right sir, I think I understand what you mean now."

"I know by your tone you don't entirely approve."

"In all honesty I don't. But I can tell you are very determined and serious about this. It's a very idealistic hope to want to help the Jok- I mean Jack, after all he's done. To me it seems that man does not want to change, he's very ill. But if it is your wish to do your best to help him, then I shall support you in your endeavor the best of my ability sir."

"Thank you Alfred, for everything," smiled slightly Bruce. The gesture was in truth a huge relief of stress. He felt like he didn't have to hide his feelings for the clown so much anymore. Throughout their entire conversation, the harsh pitter patter of rain droplets hitting the window and ground outside could be heard. Cold gale winds could now be heard howling in the background.

"My word, the weather outside has turned rather nasty," commented the butler as he straightened himself from the seriousness of their conversation.

"Heh, I'm really glad I came home before it started raining," smirked the billionaire.

"Would you like for me to prepare some hot chocolate for you and your guest then, since he's so fond of sweets sir?"

"That sounds great Alfred; I'll be in the library then. Jack must be bored out of his mind in there," noted Bruce lightheartedly as he returned to the library.

* * *

Bruce began heading back to where he had left Jack, he was really in better spirits after getting Alfred to better understand his views. As he stepped inside the library he had a genuine smile across his face. "Did you manage to find anything interesting Jack?" he asked as he came in. He was met with silence and an empty room. "Jack?" Bruce began to walk around the room finding absolutely no sign of him. Maybe he stepped in the bathroom or he wanted to sleep and went back to the cave? He started checking the manor's bathrooms all while calling his name. No answer. He then descended to the cave, again calling out Jack's name, still no answer. A deep and sinking feeling began to resonate inside Bruce as the seconds turned to minutes. There was no sign of Jack anywhere. He immediately returned to the kitchen, his face full of evident worry.

"Sir is something the matter?" questioned Alfred as soon as he saw his master's expression of worry.

"I can't find Jack; he's not in the manor or in the cave!"

"Would it be wrong of me if I said I told you so?" said the butler sardonically.

"Please Alfred I don't want to hear it!" screamed Bruce as he stormed out the kitchen back door.

"Master Bruce where are you going!?"

"I'm going to find him, he couldn't have gone far!"

"But sir it's raining out you'll catch cold!" called out Alfred. But it was too late, Bruce was already out.

* * *

He didn't care that he was getting wet, he didn't care that it was freezing outside and that he was ruining one of his best suits. He just had to find Jack; he wasn't going to let him revert back to the Joker not after making progress with him. Bruce didn't know how long ago or why Jack had left the manor. All he knew was if he wanted to salvage the person that could be Jack from the depths of his madness, he had to find him. "Jack!" the thunder in the background made it difficult to hear even his own voice. "JACK!" The harsh wind whipping his face made it hard to see, the rain obscured his vision. He hurried and searched the tremendous property. There was no way he could get far, not in this weather at least. He probably hid somewhere for shelter. Bruce knew exactly where to go, sure enough as he made his way to the garden area he saw the pale clown sitting underneath a small gazebo among the roses.

Bruce came up to him, he was soaking wet and violently shivering. "Jack, why did you run away?" He felt hurt was this really Jack's attempt to escape him and go back to a life of crime and death as the Joker?

"I-it's c-co-cold."

Bruce instinctively knelt down and wrapped his arms around the shaking man. His skin was like ice, even more so than before. This was bad, in such extreme conditions and he being in thin clothing that provided little to none protection against the cold, hypothermia could easily set in, especially in his weakened state. He quickly picked him up and carried Jack in his arms. He hurried back to the manor, the wet grass sloshed as he ran as fast as he could without slipping.

As soon as he returned through the back entrance Alfred was surprised of what he saw. "Alfred go get some towels and blankets, hurry!" Without hesitation or delay Alfred swiftly did as he was told while Bruce carried the disoriented clown to the den near the roaring fireplace. "Jack can you hear me?"

"I-it's c-co-cold," he repeated in a slurred shiver, his eyes were confused it didn't seem he was looking back at him. Bruce reasoned that he must've been outside longer than he had thought.

"You're going to be fine in a moment," assured Bruce as he held him tighter in his arms. Alfred soon came in with a stack of towels and some blankets. He helped Bruce dry off the wet and pale man in his arms. "I got it from here Alfred."

"Very well sir, there is a change a clothes in your bedroom." The butler was about to make his leave to prepare something hot for his master until he took in the image before him for a moment. He saw how Bruce was holding Jack, the look of worry he held for the man in his arms was all the proof the servant needed to know his master was serious. "Master Bruce, forgive my little comment from before."

"It's all right Alfred." Once he was gone his blue eyes gazed at the quiet clown. He continued running the towel over his disheveled wet green hair and began stripping the soaked clothes off his trembling pale form. As soon as he was dry he wrapped him in the thick blankets. Jack was staring away from Bruce; he still seemed so disoriented and unfocused. His lost fluorescent green eyes gazed outside through the den's enormous windowpanes.

"It's raining," he whispered as his violent shivers were reduced to a small tremor.

"Yeah, it is," agreed Bruce. He really wanted to ask why Jack had fled but he rationalized that now might not be the best time. But that didn't stop the chaos of his thoughts from flood his mind. Everything around him just seemed so chaotic. The harsh rain outside, the doubt of this relationship, down to the man he was holding onto. The man reveled and embodied the word.

"It's raining," he repeated, his voice broke through the rain, the distant thunder and the doubt in Bruce's mind. "Just like – our first dance…" Bruce knew exactly the memory the clown was remembering, 'their first dance' as he put it was that fateful night Batman let the Red Hood fall off the catwalk and into the chemicals that created the Joker. It had been raining that night so long ago. "It was raining… it hurts – when it rains."

"Jack what are you saying?" He wasn't making any sense, what was the meaning to those words. The jester was already fast asleep in his arms; he must've been so exhausted. He gathered up the pale and sleeping clown and began to ascend the steps to his bedroom.


	17. Chapter 17: Something New

**_Author's Notes: Hope you guys like the chapter, this would've been up sooner but my internet got turned off and I've been playing my Injustice Gods Among Us game it's sooooo awesome. Anyway enjoy the chapter and wow over 4,000 views thanks for all the support :) (one last side note, just to put it out there I have written male on male type of scenarios before, still practicing and working on it so sorry if it seems off or anything). _**

* * *

Bruce took Jack to his room and laid him on his bed to rest more comfortably. There at the corner he found a change of clothes for both Jack and him. It felt so uncomfortable being in wet and constricting business clothes. He looked over to Jack to make absolutely sure that he was asleep. He didn't want the jester to catch him in the buff while he stripped. He quickly changed into the set of dry and casual clothes then took the new dry pajamas over to Jack. He cautiously unraveled the blanket off his pale body and tried not to lay eyes on the naked white form in front of him. But it was hard to ignore it though. Such stark chalk white skin discolored by numerous bruises and scars. Bruce found himself gazing at these marks, some of them he recognized from their many battles. He went over to touch a scar near the corner of Jack's pale shoulder until he began to shudder from being exposed. Bruce quickly snapped back to reality and dressed the unconscious clown. Just as he was about finished buttoning the shirt, Jack's eyes began to open watching the detective over him.

"Wow Bats, are you sure you don't pull anything while I sleep?" spoke Jack with a hushed but playful tone. Bruce actually jumped hearing his voice so suddenly. He then saw what the clown was insinuating about the situation and backed off all while trying to hide the red flash of color spreading on his face. "Oh you're so cute when you blush Batsy," he smiled as he began to sit up and finish buttoning his shirt.

"You know I didn't do what you're insinuating," stated the detective trying to regain composure.

"I know but it's so funny rattling your cage sweetheart."

Bruce began to rub the bridge of his nose from the awkwardness and embarrassment of the situation. This clown really knew what buttons to push to get him riled up. But he quickly collected himself after remembering the events that led them to this point. "Jack, can we please talk?"

"Oh boy here we go again," he said in a fit of giggles as he rested a tired hand to his head.

"Please I want to talk seriously. Why were you out there Jack? Why did you try to escape?"

"I don't want to talk about it, just leave me alone," Jack was no longer smiling, there seemed to be an underlying rage boiling in those acidic eyes.

"No, I'm not going to let this go. Was this your way of showing me that you're going back to being the Joker?! Why did you leave Jack?!" Bruce could no longer keep his feelings of hurt and abandonment from rising, his serene eyes turned furious as the storm outside.

"BECAUSE YOU HATE ME THAT'S WHY!"

Bruce was at a loss of words. The power from his eyes diminished and went blank with confusion. Before he could speak, he saw tears welling up in Jack's eyes and roll down his pale cheeks. The sight was really one to behold, never in his life could he have imagined this. He raised a hand to try to wipe his tears away. "Jack…"

"Don't touch me!" he screamed as he slapped Bruce's hand away. Jack saw the hurt in the knight's expression by his disdainful action. The clown didn't want any false empathy from Bruce; he's had enough of that from Harley and the doctors in Arkham. "I heard you Bruce, talking to your manservant about how you really feel about me. About how you will never forget my deeds as the Joker, you toyed with me and made me feel that there was something between us. When in reality I know now that you just hate me," he explained in a hushed yet hurtful tone.

Bruce was able to discern that Jack was listening all along, but by the way he was talking it seemed like he didn't hear the rest of that discussion. "Jack, can you please let me explain. This is just one big misunderstanding."

"What's there to misunderstand, I heard it with my own ears. I don't need bat ears to hear what you really…" Bruce grabbed his pale hand and held it tightly in his.

"Jack listen to me there was more to…"

"Let me go, stop messing with my head Bats!" screamed Jack as he tried frantically to pull away. Their eyes met, both men unwilling to yield to the other. Bruce saw the raw intensity in those green eyes and desperately tried to calm his own. He drew deep breaths and found the strength to comply by letting go of Jack's hand. Those toxic, acidic eyes burned a hole in him, but he found the calm to handle the situation with words instead of physical violence like from their battles before.

"Alfred told me you said that you loved me," Bruce said quietly. His words broke through the clown's rage and left him in a silent state. Jack's eyes lost all their intensity and seemed so shaken and stunned. "Do you love me?"

His green eyes regained focused but couldn't endure looking into the seriousness but at the same time serenity of Bruce's blue orbs. "What does it matter, Bruce."

"Jack, I don't hate you. It's true what you heard before, I won't lie. I really can't forget all the pain you've caused me throughout the years." Jack tuned his head and looked away from the knight unable to hear that fact being said again. But Bruce cupped the prince's chin and turned it slightly to meet his eyes. "But what you didn't hear me tell Alfred was that despite all that pain it doesn't mean I'm not willing to forgive you."

"Forgive me? Why would you do that?" Jack was just dumfounded by the word. He didn't want to find hilarity in the situation but his mind betrayed him as he began to let out a laugh. "Oh, Batsy! I think you've finally lost it! That's hilarious, you forgive me? That's a good one!"

"This isn't a joke. I'm being serious." Just hearing the familiarity of that condescending and mocking tone that was associated with the Joker managed to reignite sparks from before.

"Well excuse me if I don't believe a word you are saying," he smiled in that wide infamous grin. That little gesture further angered Bruce. But he was smart enough to know that Jack was just instigating him. Making him feed into his rage in hopes that he would lash out at the jester.

"What do I have to do to get you to believe me?" Bruce was honestly not in the mood for the clown's games. When the two got closer as Bruce and Jack, beyond whom they were at night as Batman and the Joker, Bruce honestly believed they were done with these games.

"Kiss me." He still had a huge bloodied grin plastered across his pale face. A part of him can see the detective struggle to comply and reveal his thoughts and feelings wholeheartedly. It wasn't hard for the Clown Prince to further irritate and intimidate the Dark Knight, it was the lighter of things he's done to the bat over the years, and oh how he loved to play with him. "Unless, you're lying to me."

Bruce is not the kind of man to submit to the demands of another, especially not to those of Gotham's infamous prankster. True, he did take initiative last time to kiss those red lips, but he didn't like the idea of being ordered to do so. "Jack…"

"God you think way too much," interjected Jack with a deep and annoyed sigh. He grabbed onto Bruce's collar and pulled him close; they remained there face to face. "So detective, show me how you honestly feel. No more words," he continued with a low and deep whisper as he let go of the collar.

Bruce saw the glimmer of ecstasy in the other man's eyes. But noted how patient he was even being so tangibly close to one another. He could smell the faint scent coming the clown's skin and hair. He bore a mixture of faint scents; the lavender body wash from his bathroom was being muddled by the smell of the rain and fresh roses from the garden he had found him in. He found his senses being drowned out with every breath he took. His thoughts turned to inaudible whispers as he took Jack's advice to show rather than tell him what he felt. He parted some of Jack's disheveled green locks away from his pale face and leaned closer to his awaiting blood red lips. Locking their lips in a tender kiss, Bruce backed the clown against the bed's headboard. The kiss turned rough as Jack felt the larger and more powerful frame of his bat press hard into him. He allowed his knight to deepen the passion as their tongues danced. So this is how it felt to see his Batman release his inhibitions, the jester reveled at the situation as he began to smile.

As they departed from each other, each man staring deeply into one another's eyes and breathing heavily after such display of affection, Bruce noticed that Jack was giggling softly. "What's so funny?"

"I believe you sweetheart."

Bruce couldn't help but to stare incredulously at the pale man in front of him. "Really? After all that drama, now you believe me."

"Heh, what can I say Batsy. Actions speak louder than words and boy did all those actions speak to me," he replied in a lighter and playful tone as he teasingly fanned his face.

"I really hope you're not playing with me Jack."

"Sheesh lighten up, you're very serious you know that."

"So I keep hearing, especially from you," replied Bruce as he finally let a slight smile slip.

Jack saw the change in mood exuding from the usually brooding and serious bat; his smile grew as he turned his head to face the windows to try to collect himself. The more he witnessed how the rain was now reduced to small pitter patter against the glass compared to the storm from before, the more his smile lessened. Bruce observed this change and remembered how the pale man was reacting in the dazed and lost condition from before. "Are you all right?"

"It really hurts you know," he responded in a low voice without even looking at the billionaire.

"What hurts?"

"After I emerged from those searing chemicals and the rain hit me from that night it hurt, it has never stopped hurting."

Bruce continued to stare at the jester who just seemed in his own world by himself. He was concerned for Jack, how can he be in such constant pain and seem so collected. "You've been hurting all this time?"

Jack sensed the concern in the detective's voice and snapped back to reality as he met his bat's worried blue stare. "Yeah, the pain is so constant that I've mostly become accustomed to it. But something about the rain makes it hurt more than usual. Except one time though."

"And when was that?"

"It was that night after we fought through the carnival grounds and faced off. In the midst of the chaos and rain the lights were coming from Gotham seeing us off in the horizon and the sirens of the police cars filled the night. That night we laughed the rain drowned everything but our laughter, the pain was almost absent. I'll admit to you, that was one of my favorite dances we shared."

It was really something surreal hearing how Jack described that night. That night was coated in pain and hatred. The suffering of the innocent fueled his drive to stop the clown's madness. They tore through the funhouse, smashed through the hall of mirrors and clashed through the carnival grounds. Both men fought each unwilling to give in, unwilling to give up their ideals, their creeds or their resolves. But the fight reached a stalemate, despite all that the Joker did Batman still tried to reach him. But when the man before him told him it was far too late and shared a joke instead, Bruce couldn't help but to join the madman's laughter. Deep down it almost felt like joining the Joker on the side of madness for that ephemeral moment, it felt like accepting defeat and giving up. Even years later, they shared the same "dance" as the Joker put it, the same routine. But here they were now, together without masks and assumed identities, sharing a chance for something new between them and Bruce didn't want to give it up like he did for that brief moment on that rainy night.

"Jack, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead and shoot. And I don't mean in the literal like how Two Face did sorta way, because that's how I got in this predicament in the first place," he chuckled as if remembering his usual playful demeanor.

"What do you think is going to happen between us when all is said and done here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we just going to go back to how we were before?"

"Like I said you think way too much about things," scoffed the clown as he dismissed the question with small laughter.

"I'm being serious."

"I know sweetheart. You're afraid we're just gonna fall into the same old song and dance. You think that if we do that you wouldn't be able to chase me as diligently and seriously as you did before because of everything that's happened between us recently. I'll try to assure you dearest because I know you're the kind of person that needs to constantly be reassured, let's just say that this dance has taken a new tone," smiled Jack warmly.

Bruce couldn't help but to follow his example and match Jack's light and amiable expression. He made him feel so sure, he seemed to drown all his doubt with that smile. His eyes drifted to the clock on his nightstand. Blaring red numbers signified that it was now five o'clock; though the dreary grey sky outside did nothing to help indicate the time. He really shouldn't keep the jester from resting for it could prove detrimental to his health right now. Besides in a few hours, Bruce's attention would be needed elsewhere for he still had an obligation to do his nightly rounds.

"You should get some rest," spoke Bruce as he led Jack to lie back on the bed. Before he could ease off the bed and leave, a white hand kept him in place.

"Brucey, bats sleep during the day. Could do just stay with me until then?" Jack's eyes held the beaming nature of a child who wanted attention and companionship. He didn't have the heart to dismiss him because it could upset the clown and that's the last thing he wanted after just barely making up with him.

"All right but you have to sleep."

"Okay mom I'll be a good clown and listen," he joked as he pulled back the covers. Bruce paused as if not understanding what Jack was demanding of him. "Well come on if I have to sleep the least you can do is join me for a little while before you go out and fly around beating bad guys."

Without any objections the knight joined the prince underneath the covers and lay by his side. Without any hesitation Jack's stark white arm wrapped around Bruce's waist as he rested his head against the broad muscular chest of his bat. Bruce embraced the pale man and stared into his glowing eyes until his eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed. He took a minute to take in this moment, a second to look down at the man in his arms. The white skin he was touching and holding didn't seem as frigid and icy as before. His eyes which usually had an eerily sinister calm about them were able to exude serenity and tranquility. And his lips which were normally contorted into an inhumane caricature of a smile, now could elicit genuine happiness and ecstasy. This man hardly resembled the adversary he's fought for so long. A lot seemed to change in the small amount of time they've spent together away from the people of Gotham, away from the police, away from the other rogues, away from the chaos and fighting. That routine almost seemed like a distant memory of what once was. None of it seemed to matter anymore. As Bruce began to close his eyes he insentiently leaned in as kissed the sleeping man's unguarded red lips. There was a slight stir, but as the knight detached himself the prince was still resting. Both men slept in each other's embraced, enveloped in the warmth between them. Something neither of them deemed possible being such great enemies, there truly was something that has changed between them.


	18. Chapter 18: Soundless Pain

**_Author's Notes: Don't have much going on; just as a fair warning this chapter will have some sexual content. So if you are not into male on male slashiness don't read. Well then again I guess you wouldn't be reading this story if you hated male on male pairings. Just to note I've only written a handful of slash and sex scenes, still fairly new and practicing so be gentle. Anyway, enjoy the chapter the next one is gonna be the finale. _**

* * *

Bruce opened his eyes and saw from the clock on his nightstand that it was now nine. Everything around him was dark except the skin of the pale white man who was clinging loosely on to him. Jack seemed so peaceful sleeping naturally for once. A part of Bruce wanted to stay and continue resting with the Clown Prince. But deep down, he knew that with the fall of night that Gotham would need its Dark Knight. He cautiously pried himself out of slack embrace and eased himself off the bed as to not wake the sleeping clown. The moment he got off and stood firmly on the carpeted floor, Jack stirred. Bruce held his breath hoping he wouldn't wake up. When the jester shifted a bit only to maintain deep sleep the detective felt he could breathe easy. Bruce took a moment to look down on Jack, a moment to take in the beauty of the situation that lay before his vigilant blue gaze. The storm from before had cleared away allowing a dim moonlight to shine through the window and hit Jack. The light enveloped him, highlighting and amplifying the paleness of his skin. How he wanted to return to bed, but he was needed elsewhere. He silently retreated in to the darkness, leaving the respite of light that consumed the sleeping prince.

* * *

Thunder crashed into Jack's ears, pulling him from the comfort of his sleep. He awoke violently as he sat up in the bed, his heart beating mercilessly in his chest. When the sound faded into the distance he began taking deep breaths to settle his nerves. The first thing that caught his attention once he had settled down was that he was alone. His eyes looked to where his bat had lain beside him; the corners of his mouth tugged a bit as he feigned a smile. "Typical, always working," he sighed to himself. The next thing he noticed was the clock on the nightstand indicating that it was now ten in the morning. He stared incredulously at the time and couldn't believe he had slept for so long without being heavily sedated or comatose. The outside couldn't validate the time at all, the sun was absent only perpetual grey consumed the skies. It was probably going to rain again. He hated the rain; it only brought about hurt in him. It was a sort of physical and mental discomfort. Physical because it was like reliving his baptismal in the chemicals that created him. When he emerged from them and he removed that stupid helmet over his head the rain began to pour from the sky. Every inch of his skin was burning but when the rain hit him it was as if every drop were a needle endlessly jabbing his scarring skin. Whenever stormy weather hit this cursed city he felt as if he were reliving that pain though he never showed anyone his pain, not even to himself. He would merely stare out and writhe in silence. The mental drain that this dreary weather brought was through remembrance or lack of would be a better way to describe it. His life began that night, his christening many years ago. But there was a pain that the gloomy weather brought in his mind. Bits of pieces of something before would flood into his consciousness drowning his thoughts, suffocating him. Sounds, voices, images, smells, places, people, they all rushed in his head. None of them connected; none of them made sense; nothing in his life ever did. This mental strain didn't have so much hold on him as much as the physical aspect; the rain hadn't even begun to pour. But something about today made it all seem unbearable; he could feel lethargy and ennui begin to set in, there was nothing he wanted to do. Jack edged himself to the corner of the bed until his feet touched the ground and sat. He stared out the window and to the expansive property that was Wayne Manor. Eventually, his vision blurred to the point where he could see nothing, just endless grey. The wind howled in the distance, it was the only thing that broke the silence on the room. He could feel his skin sting with the all too familiar pain of his birth. The first drops of rain began to fall outside, it sounded like hammers falling and crashing onto concrete in his ears. But still he remained mute as the serenity and calm of everything around him only brought about chaos and pain inside him.

* * *

Alfred began to ascend the steps to his master's bedroom. Though his employer was long gone since yesterday night he was informed that the manor's guest was now residing in his mater's bedroom. He honestly didn't know how to refer him, would he call him the Joker, the moniker that the man has proudly proclaimed. Or should he call him Jack, the name he adopted for Bruce. Maybe he should just use pronouns and vague titles such as "sir". He was carrying a tray of toast and water once more, the clown hasn't eaten at all but he probably still couldn't stomach much. But just in case he found his appetite he also brought a side of butter and jam if he so desired. Alfred came up to the door and knocked. "May I step in?" There was no answer, another knock. "Sir?" Silence. The butler cautiously grabbed a firm hold on the knob and turned it slightly. It wasn't locked, in a smooth motion he opened the door and stepped inside. He saw the jester have his back to him as he was just sitting on the edge of the bed looking out the window. "I brought you something."

"I'm not hungry," he finally spoke. His voice seemed strained and tired. There was an eerie quiet in the room. The butler cleared his throat as he came close and laid the tray to the side of him.

"You know if you want to recover you're going to have to try and eat," stated Alfred as he noted that the man wasn't even looking at him. Those unnerving green eyes merely continued staring into space outside. "Master Bruce would appreciate if you would just try and eat a little."

At that comment the pale clown finally averted his toxic green eyes from the window and on to Alfred. This sudden action made the manservant jump a bit. He then looked down at the tray and slowly moved his hands to it. Alfred sighed in relief to himself; it was nice to see what people normally would describe as a deranged lunatic act so civilized and compliantly. He grabbed the small knife for the butter and jam for the toast. Before Alfred was about to suggest he allow him to spread the condiments, the clown dug the blade of the knife deep into his palm and ran it across his hand!

"My word… What are you doing!?" The madman didn't listen, he was about to stab the knife into his wrist before Alfred bravely pried the utensil away from his pale grasp. The clown said nothing he just held out his bleeding hand and allowed the blood flow freely down his palm and drip steadily on the carpet. It was unsettling watching this man react this way, he wasn't smiling, he wasn't sad, those haunting eyes just stared emptily at the wound. Alfred quickly left the room, taking the tray with him so that the jester wouldn't use anything else to harm himself. Upon returning with a medical kit on hand the pale man didn't move at all. He just remained in that same position. The butler hesitantly reached for the injured hand and began to treat it. When he pressed a rag to stop the bleeding the clown didn't move. When he sprayed the disinfectant he remained still. When he began to bandage the pale hand he maintained a rigid form, those lost green eyes staring out the window. It was as if the butler wasn't even there, it was as if nothing was in that dead frightening stare.

"Jack?" Alfred spoke uncertainly. Life began to spark back into those florescent eyes as they directed themselves onto the servant.

"Please, just go," Jack spoke softly. Alfred didn't know how to respond, he was honestly afraid what the unpredictable man would do if he were to deny his request. Reluctantly he made his way out the bedroom, before he left completely he looked back and saw Jack take his place on the bed and stare out as the rain audible pitter patter hit the window glass.

* * *

Around the late afternoon Bruce finally returned to the manor. After completing his nightly rounds bringing in low life lesser criminals into the care of the GCPD, morning hit. His attention was immediately dragged to a very important board meeting. There was no time for sleep; he had to push through exhaustion for this meeting. Finally returning to the manor he was immediately informed by Alfred about Jack's odd and frightening behavior. Since the morning Alfred would quietly check in on the disturbed clown only to find him hours on end staring out the bedroom window. He really didn't know how to handle the situation so waited for his Master's return. Hearing all this, Bruce quickly made his way to his bedroom.

As soon as he stepped in he saw Jack in the condition that Alfred had described him in, except he turned and greeted him with a lively smile. "Hello sweetheart. Did you have a nice day at work? I missed you."

"Jack, are you okay?" questioned Bruce as he approached. Jack made some room on the side of the bed and allowed him to sit.

"Sure I am why wouldn't I be?" Bruce noticed the bandages on his hand and the dried blood on the ground.

"Don't lie to me there's something wrong with you," answered Bruce, his voice heavy with concern.

Jack's smile began to grow; it contorted to the Joker's familiar grin. "Oh, darling, there's always something _wrong_ with me." He began chuckling softly to himself; his mirth grew as the seconds passed.

Bruce couldn't handle it anymore, the man before him wasn't the same man from last night. This wasn't Jack this was the Joker. "Enough!"

The clown's laughter was cut short but the bloodied red grin was plastered on his ghostly white face. "What's the matter Batsy? Don't like what you see?"

"No I don't, I thought we were passed this. Please talk to me Jack; I know you're just trying to distract me from asking what's bothering you. It's not going to work, Alfred already told me how you were all day and I want to hear from you why."

"Nosey butler can't mind his own business. You know in my line of work, we beat snitches and put them in ditches. Heh, it's so true it even rhymes," he laughed.

Bruce was not amused; he hated hearing the Joker's twisted sense of humor. It bothered him even more hearing it from Jack. "Jack…"

"Oh knock it off; I don't want to hear any of this _Jack_ business anymore!" he snapped. Thunder crashed in the background, Bruce found the added effect aided the pale man's sudden rage. "I've had enough of it," he continued in a low but menacing whisper.

His blue eyes gazed into those burning and searing pools of green. He was losing him; Bruce was losing the serenity he had found in those beautifully terrifying eyes. No, he couldn't, he refused to give in. He reached for him and embraced the pale figure. He was so rigid and like stone against Bruce. At some point he tried weakly nudging the bat away. But Bruce refused to let go, he was desperately trying to hold onto Jack. He refused to let this man drown in the waters of his own madness. The clash of thunder against the grey sky grew distant; the constant rhythm of rain hitting the earth lessened; only Jack's erratic heartbeat against his chest and his labored breath on the crook of his neck broke through the silence.

Eventually Jack relaxed into the embrace and slowly clasped his arms around his bat's waist. They remained that way for a moment longer. "Sorry."

Bruce was about to break their contact only to have Jack reaffirm his grip, by this action he knew that Jack didn't want to separate. "Jack?" Bruce's voice sounded a bit unsure, he wasn't positive if the clown wanted to be called that anymore.

"I was acting crazier than usual, it must be the weather," he whispered into the billionaire's uncertainty as a response to that name.

At that moment Bruce remembered Jack's words from yesterday. At certain points the jester would say he was in pain, he had implied it was connected to the rain. Bruce had dismissed it before because afterwards Jack seemed completely fine. It was obvious now that he still isn't okay. He wasn't going to make that mistake again he was going to be thorough this time. "Were you hurting all day?"

"Yes."

"Did it start hurting when the rain began?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you hurt yourself, to get your mind off the pain?"

"Yes."

"Are you still in pain?"

"No."

"No?" questioned Bruce. He could still hear rain drops lightly tapping against the bedroom window. Though it lessened he still inferred that Jack would still feel discomfort.

Jack finally loosened his embrace and allowed Bruce to detach himself so he could finally meet his eyes. Those crazed eyes lost all their intensity, a small smile completed the picture of who Bruce knew as Jack. "It doesn't hurt when you're here."

"It doesn't? What – kind of pain do you experience? What does it feel like?"

"I don't know how to really explain it. It's like – well imagine for a moment every part of your skin is set ablaze searing constantly without having any second of respite. Then imagine thousands of needles stabbing your burning flesh deep, endlessly, bearing deeper and deeper into you. But then imagine feeling just so empty and alone that you writhe in your pain in silence. The silence is your only companion, the pain so innate and intimate. You make it all just go away."

Bruce didn't know how to respond to that statement. He began to hold the pale injured hand gripping it tenderly in his hands. "I should change these bandages," he said as he went for the medical bag Alfred left by the foot of the bed. Bruce opened the bag and searched its contents. Once retrieving the bandages he noticed something else in the bag. He pulled out a tube of lubricant and held it incredulously in his hand.

"Sheesh Brucey being a little blunt are we?" he heard Jack joke.

Bruce's face turned red as he put the lube away. "No, it – God! Damn Alfred thinks he must be really funny…" he cursed to himself.

Jack couldn't help but let his laughter spit out of his mouth. He was full blown hysterical as he grabbed onto his sides and fell back over the bed. "I'm sorry – I'm sorry… Hahahaha! I – I – can't help it!" he tried to apologized but his laughter made it impossible to sound sincere.

"It's not funny!" Bruce retorted.

"It kinda… is," he smiled as he took deep breaths to put his mirth to rest. He sat up once he laughed himself off but he was still smiling over the situation. "Gotta hand it to the old man, he knows how to pull off a funny joke."

"Give me your hand," he sighed as he got the bandages ready. Jack conceded and allowed Bruce to redress his wound. As he finished bandaging the injury, Jack began pulling and tugging at the business man's tie with his free hand. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you get more comfortable," he said as he finally undid the tie once retrieving his other hand. When Jack began fingering the buttons to his white shirt Bruce backed off.

"I can do that myself," he snapped. Jack merely blinked a few times and merely brushed off the billionaire's brash outburst.

"My apologies Mr. Wayne," he smiled innocently.

"Aren't you going to turn around?"

"Hey, you've seen me naked loads of time. How come I can't get a peek, it's only fair right?" pouted Jack harmlessly.

Bruce merely sighed; he didn't want to fight with the clown anymore. He acquiesced and tossed his coat to the side. As soon as he exposed his torso after undoing each button of his shirt he turned to get a muscle shirt from his drawer. "Wait," spoke Jack. The knight stopped and allowed the prince to advance toward him. Jack began to trace the muscular frame of his bat with a white hand, lightly treading where scars lay on his body. "I'm responsible for some of these." His hand traveled passed bullet wounds, slash and stab marks from knives; all the scars that depicted their many dances. His hand touched his navel and traveled passed his ribs until he rested it firmly on his broad chest.

The bat brought his own hand to expose Jack's stark shoulder and outlined the prominent scar on it. The clown shuddered at the sudden action and looked up at Bruce. "Sorry I didn't…"

"It's fine I just wasn't expecting you to do that," he reassured with a smile. Having a better look, Bruce remembered that scar. He lost his temper with the Joker one night and threw a batarang at the clown, being careless with his aim. The weapon embedded itself deep into the Joker's shoulder, that moment Batman realized that if he had hit the Joker anywhere vital that he could've really killed him. He lowered his head down and placed a gentle caress on the scar. This action made Jack shiver feeling Bruce's lips against his skin. He let him come up and join their lips for a deep kiss.

Jack wanted this from Bruce all along, to initiate things and assert his confidence. He allowed him this control though normally they would be fighting for dominance. It was a nice change in dynamics, to let himself be enveloped in the raw power that exuded from his bat. He began biting and sucking on the blood red lower lip all while leading the pale man back onto the bed. As the knight laid the prince on his back he tore open the lavender top letting the buttons fall where they may. He marveled at the white yet scarred skin that lay before him. In that moment he began to waver, he wasn't all too sure how to precede their passionate act. Jack noticed the change; he didn't want to take the dominance away from Bruce but thought of a way to let him keep the lead. He sat up until he met the lower half of the detective but he paused before continuing.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he spoke in a low sensual whisper as he met his eyes. Bruce didn't know how to respond; Jack noticed and saw that it was going to take a bit more effort on his part to get the bat to engage. He began press his face against his inner thigh and teasing the zipper down with his teeth. He paused again and looked up to Bruce. The billionaire's face was flushed, there was a hard bulge beginning to scrape the lining of his briefs and pants. "Do you want me to go on?"

"Yes," he breathed out almost inaudibly. Jack smiled as he began undoing the belt and lowering the bottom clothing enough to reveal the bat's growing erection. He held its length in his palm, letting the girth fill his hand. His tongue pressed against the tip, sending shocks of ecstasy throughout Bruce's system. He then took Bruce's penis in his mouth, beginning to bob his head. As he sucked and licked he grabbed a firm hold of the base and skillfully fondled it. Bruce gripped and tangled his fingers through the clown's green locks, trying not to buck his hips into the jester's mouth and stand his ground. Those omniscient glowing eyes would look up at him, catching his flushed cheeks and every pleasure filled expression. The bat moaned and groaned lowly from Jack's sensual ministrations.

"Ja-ck I'm gonna…"

"Just let it go," he cut him short his words short and smothered. With a low groan he released inside Jack's mouth. Jack separated and swallowed the liquids in his mouth, wiping whatever remnants from his lips with the back of his hand. Bruce never was the kind to leave a lover dissatisfied and Jack's actions brought out the bat in him. He leaned over the pale form, laying him down and crashed their lips in a powerful kiss. Their tongues wrestled inside their mouths, Bruce broke their kiss and began biting and sucking at the clown's white neck leaving harsh bruises and hickeys. Jack reveled at the passion that was enveloped in a coat of pain. Bruce grabbed the jester's pale shaft and began stroking it roughly. This sudden action made Jack gasp and moan loudly. The way his Batman caressed and jerked him with his calloused rough hand was sent wave after wave of euphoria. Bruce disengaged himself from Jack for a moment, before the prince was about to asked why he saw his knight retrieve the lubricant.

"I guess I should thank Alfred for his little joke," Jack chuckled softly, again not knowing whether the butler was being thorough or dropping a hint. Bruce ignored the comment and coated his fingers with the lube. He started with a single finger inside Jack's backside. There was an obvious discomfort, but the clown refused to show it. But when the second then third finger went in his composure faltered. Bruce immediately took Jack's mind off the pain by kissing him deeply and stroking him once more.

Once he was done with the preparations, he slicked his penis; Jack took a pale hand and aided the flaccid member back to life. Now hard and rigid he began teasing Jack's entrance with his tip. Teasing turned to pain and pleasure as Bruce inched himself deeper into Jack. As soon as he was all the way in both men took a moment to settle the connection. Harsh, erratic gasps escaped their mouths; Jack was face to face with Bruce. His breath was hot against the crook of his bat's neck. Bruce began to thrust in and out of Jack who was holding tightly to the muscular frame. Jack's nails bore severely into his bat's back. Bruce gripped firmly onto Jack, only lifting his head slightly to roughly kiss the jester's stark white neck and blood red lips. He was pumping hard into Jack; he could feel the clown's erection rubbing against him. A faint red smile surfaced onto the white face, he's never been so close to his Batman, he never in a million years deemed such a lustful and passionate act with this man possible. Jack ejaculated between them and soon afterwards, Bruce with a low growl came deep inside the prince.

They lay on the bed, a hot and sweaty pile of tangled flesh after such display of carnal desire. The rain was quiet, silent, merely a distant act of nature that remained mute now. Striking blue eyes gazed into fluorescent pools of green. The rush and high of the moment began to fade, Jack relaxed his head against his beloved knight's chest and closed his eyes. Bruce leaned in close and settled a light kiss on Jack's forehead. "I love you, Jack," he said in an almost soundless whisper.


	19. Chapter 19: When it Rains

**_Author's Notes: Wow over 5,000 views I am so flattered. Well this is it, the last chapter of When it Rains. Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and such. BTW this chapter will include a bit from the Arkham Asylum game as it mentions Arkham mansion where Amadeus Arkham resided, along with Warden Sharp. Also Dr. Joan Leland from the animated series. A big shout out/thanks to fellow BatmanxJoker fanfic writer Rach Elegy for giving critique and input since the beginning, gave me a few pointers and advice which I was happy to receive. We writers gotta stick together lol. Also another person who was onboard since the beginning and her art made my day a little brighter/inspired me as I wrote is lovejoker. And of course thanks to you all who read, I keep getting thanked for writing this fic but it's you guys who deserve the recognition. I do this for fun, your views/reviews are done from kindness and you guys taking time out of your lives so thank you, the reader and enjoy XD!_**

* * *

There was no sign of him, he was all alone…

Bruce awoke in the dead of night, his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw that he was by himself in the bed. He groggily got up, put on his sweats and began to walk out of his bedroom. He wandered toward the bathroom, maybe Jack was there. "Jack," he whispered softly as he lightly tapped the door. There was no answer, the light wasn't even on. Perhaps he got hungry and found his way to the kitchen. Bruce quietly descended to the kitchen… again there was no sign of the missing clown.

A sinking cold feeling began to set in inside his heart. Suddenly, the lights of the kitchen flickered on. Bruce turned to see that it was a tired looking Alfred standing behind him.

"Sir, what are you doing down here?" he asked with a yawn.

"Alfred – it's Jack. I can't find him," Bruce explained as he passed the butler.

"Master Bruce where are you going?" questioned Alfred as he hurried after his master.

They descended down to the cave; Bruce became more stressed seeing that Jack wasn't down there as well. "I'm going to find him Alfred. I won't let him go back to being the Joker."

If it wasn't evident to the old servant before, it was now. His employer reciprocated the love that the jester admitted of having. "You love him don't you?" Bruce was in the middle of dressing in his tights and kevlar. He stopped and stared uncertainly at the butler. Alfred merely sighed and smiled comfortingly. He could tell when his master cared, he always cared so wholeheartedly. "Do what you must, Master Bruce."

Bruce returned the gesture as he put on his armor. He felt confidence and acceptance with those words. Quickly he hopped into the Batmobile and sped off into the night to locate Jack.

* * *

As the sun broke through the horizon of the vast city of Gotham Batman returned to the Batcave from an unsuccessful night. There was absolutely no sign of Jack or the Joker on the city's streets. Batman interrogated countless thugs who've been known for working with the Joker and grappled throughout the rooftops of the city trying to locate him. But there wasn't a single lead or trace of the pale man. As Bruce drove and pulled into a smooth stop his mind was still in a whirlwind. After everything the two had been through, after spending that passionate and blissful night with one another how could he leave him. Why did he leave? He took slow strides toward his computer; maybe there was some lead he could follow, a police report, anything that would give him a clue to the clown's whereabouts. As he frantically typed away on the huge keyboard quickly finding that there wasn't a trace or clue out there, Alfred came down the cave's steps with his master's breakfast. "Good morning."

"It's not really a 'good morning', Alfred. I couldn't find a trace of him anywhere," sighed Bruce tiredly.

"Perhaps this will interest you, I found it among today's mail," replied the butler as he set the breakfast tray and mail beside his worrying master.

Bruce saw a folded paper addressed to him; he quickly unfolded it and read the note to himself.

_Dear Bruce,_

_I really enjoyed our time together, but I'm afraid I just had to leave. It's nothing personal; I don't want to hurt you. That's all I do, I end up harming you in some way. Please don't come looking for me, I'll make myself known in due time. I'll always remember last night. But let's face facts darling, who were we trying to fool? Gotham needs its Dark Knight, but it can always do without the Clown Prince of Crime. Until we next meet my beloved bat. _

- _Jack_

Bruce gripped the note in his hands unable to process the torrent of emotions threatening to escape his usual serious demeanor. He steadied himself, but continued to glare sadly at the note. "I don't understand," he said to himself silently. Was Jack going back to being the Joker? After all that's happened to them why would he do this? Had Bruce not done enough to help him heal?

"Master Bruce, you did the best you could to help him," spoke Alfred as he placed an assuring hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"Then how come I feel like I didn't do enough to save him?"

"He's a very ill man, you know that. Now you tried your best to ease his madness with love, Master Bruce. But you knew from the very start that in the end it would be up to him to want to rehabilitate. I could tell he had strong feelings for you, but not enough to want to be saved and you can't blame yourself for that."

"Alfred, how am I going to be able to face him now? I can't do it – I can't fight him as Batman," he responded, his voice just so utterly lost.

"Sir, I know you can. If Jack relapses back to a life of crime as the Joker, then it's your duty to protect Gotham from him. I know it's hard, but he chose to revert back to the vile and deranged clown, now you must separate the image of Jack from the Joker. I know you can, retain the vigilant eyes for him, chase him down with everything you have and stop him as you've always done. It's not giving up; it's accepting his decision and moving onward. It's a hard thing to do but, Gotham needs its Batman."

With a heavy heart and a deep sigh he set down the note. Taking one last look at it and then putting his entire focus on the computer screen. Alfred saw the diligence and confidence return in his master's eyes as he went to work. He silently dismissed himself but before he left the cave entirely, without looking back at him his employer spoke. "Thank you."

* * *

After two long weeks of searching there was still no sign of the Joker. No word in Gotham's underworld, no threats made to the GCPD, no convoluted plans announced to the city, absolutely nothing. No one has been in contact with him; no one had heard a word inside Arkham Asylum, not even his pawn Harley Quinn had a clue. Bruce diligently scoured the city, following any lead, searching every abandoned hideout and still no Joker. Alfred poured a cup of tea for his master one afternoon when some news finally came in.

_"This is reporter Vicky Vale with some exclusive news_. _After much worry and fear when Gotham's infamous Clown Prince of Crime would strike, news from the GCPD confirm that the Joker has been apprehended and is in Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. When further pressed on the report, Commissioner Jim Gordon revealed that the Joker was actually found on the asylum grounds in the property's historical mansion. The Joker has been restrained and placed back into his cell in Arkham with the rest of the rouges. There have been no current escapes from the asylum thanks to efforts from the GCPD and the Batman making sure that the citizens of Gotham can finally rest easy. In other news…"_

Bruce turned off the television already hearing everything that he needed. Alfred stared incredulously almost over pouring the tea into his master's cup. He caught his mistake before making a mess and looked to his employer. He wasn't able to discern any emotion in his demeanor. "How on earth did he remain unnoticed for so long and actually break _into_ Arkham?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," spoke Bruce as he rose from his armchair and headed for the cave.

* * *

Joker sat silently in his cell, in his grey issued inmate uniform and bound tightly in a straitjacket with a smile plastered on his face. He couldn't stop himself from laughing from the events that took place this morning. How he laughed when he saw the look on Gordon and Arkham security's faces when they found him lounging about in Arkham mansion's library reading Amadeus' old collection. How they stared at him in disbelief but quickly swooped in and apprehended him. They interrogated for a few hours trying to find out how he got into Arkham and the "scheme' he was planning. But their efforts were in vain he just retained that information to himself and laughed in their faces. He was in a fit of giggles when the door to his cell opened. In walked in Dr. Leland and two orderlies, he didn't recognize the two men but dismissed their presence.

"Hey doc, it's been a while," he smiled with that eerie grin.

"Hello Joker, it's _nice_ to have you back with us," she said sardonically.

"Well what can I say I missed my little cozy bed and electroshock to keep me warm at night," he giggled.

"It seems you have been gone for quite a while, the asylum has discontinued such inhumane practices."

His laughter was cut short. He looked up at her, his glowing eyes staring skeptically at her. "What do you mean 'discontinued'? What happened to Sharpie and the boys and the doctors with their needles and prods?" he asked.

"Warden Sharp has been dismissed by the board of directors, along with the staff that were involved in the abuse and conspiracy that went on around here. I have been left in charge of Arkham until someone well suited is appointed. Now Joker we're going allow you out of your straitjacket and into the rec room. If you cause any trouble we will put you in solitary confinement," Dr. Leland as she motioned the orderlies to remove the jacket. He complied and allowed them to free him but only to shackle his hands together.

"Well here's one thing that hasn't changed eh doc?" he smiled at her. She was unimpressed; she was one of the rare few people that didn't fear him. Having to deal with Batman's entire rogue gallery constantly she's grown used to all of their extreme personalities. As they all walked down the asylum halls and corridors they walked past the cafeteria. Some of the other patients saw the Joker and cringed in fear, others began to quietly whisper among each other. He merely ignored it all. Once in the rec room the orderlies took off the handcuffs and dismissed themselves.

"Is there anything in particular you want?" she asked.

"Some dynamite, maybe a gun or two, oooh I'd love my knives…" he stopped himself when he saw her stone faced expression. "You're no fun, how about some playing cards doc?"

"Here, just don't cause any trouble," she said as she handed him a new deck of cards. He took it and made his way across the room to a small table by a huge window pane. As soon as he sat he saw the dark grey skies over the horizon.

"Great more rain, just what is up with this weather?" he asked himself sarcastically as he opened the new deck. He shuffled the cards a few times, feeling the crisp cards slide in his grasp. He started setting them out to play solitaire, a lonely game for a lone man. As the rain began to hit against the glass he felt the pain begin to set in. He mindlessly began to play, not even concentrating on the cards, his mind drifted to the man he left sleeping on the bed where they had connected in an act of carnal and internal desire. He had to leave, though everything in him wanted to stay. He had to leave for Bruce's sake; he was consuming the caring knight. Deep down he knew he would always be the mischievous prince, a lost cause, there was no changing and it wasn't right to lead the bat on that he would.

The whispers around him grew louder than the rain drops, he tilted his head to the side to see why and saw Two Face being escorted into the room. His demeanor grew dark when he saw the Joker. The Joker had an image to maintain, so he plastered on a grin and continued his game. Everyone grew quiet as Two Face approached the Joker. Jonathan Crane began to open up a pool letting the other villains place their bets, almost all of them siding with the ex-district attorney.

"Why hello Twofers long time no see," he smiled as he continued setting down cards without even looking.

"I thought I killed you clown," growled Harvey twiddling the coin in his hands.

"Well you know me, as long as there frowns in this world it is my duty to turn them to smiles. So couldn't let a "two face" like you snuff me out," he giggled as he finally met with Harvey's angry glare.

"I don't know how you lived, but let's see your chances this time." He flipped the coin and clasped his hand once it landed. He stared angrily at the result. "Next time you won't be so lucky."

"You still let that silly thing dictate your actions? Well lucky me eh? Oh, by the way Harvey no hard feelings I should actually thank you," smiled the Joker.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing at all, just a little secret of mine or maybe the ramblings of a madman. Either way I'll be seeing ya," he grinned as he diverted his attention back to his cards.

"What a freak," muttered Two Face as he left the general area. A collective groan could be heard from the other villains, except one cheerful squeal coming from the group.

"Ha! Too scared to even fight my puddin'! Now all of ya losers hand over your puddin' snacks!" cheered Harley Quinn. They all acquiesced and handed their desert from their lunches. She laughed and made her way to the Joker, pudding cups in hand. "It's nice to finally see you, I was so scared puddin' that something terrible happened. I'm sorry I didn't get money from those stiffs but hey who has money in this dump anyway," she smiled as she began eating into her prize. She looked to the Joker, who was barely smiling and focused in his card game. "Gee sweetie, you're not looking too happy." She moved in closer to him and took one of the snacks in hand. "You want some puddin', puddin'?"

He merely broadened his smile and patted her gently on her head. "No thanks Harl. Could you be a doll and make sure no one bothers daddy while he plays?"

"You got it Mistah J, anything for you," she beamed as she kissed him on the cheek.

For another hour he continued to play, smiling through the pain as he placed card after card. Harley made sure that no one bothered the Joker as he played. She stopped the Riddler from nagging the Joker on which card he needed to set down. She stopped Scarecrow from trying to get information from him to aid a possible escape. She even sent Poison Ivy away, because she was going to pry into the details of his arrest. How they all annoyed the Joker, he couldn't have peace. Between them and the constant rain pitter pattering against the glass he began to find the whole setting unbearable. He only felt at ease when his numbing mind began to think about Bruce. But it was a fleeting respite, he still longed for the man who said that loved him. He placed the last card on the pile and got up for his chair.

"Honey, where are you going?" called out Harley.

"Back to my cell, I'm just tired sweetheart," he smiled faintly as he kissed her on the cheek. He allowed the orderlies at the exit handcuff him and escort him back to his cell.

* * *

The hours passed, the shadow of night cascaded through the barred window of his cell, the rain still constant and relentless. He wanted to smile but found the action impossible right now. He wanted to smile because this was his choice; he wanted to accept the madness like he did before. But that black clad man made it impossible to return to it. He was deeply in love with his bat, but he knew he couldn't change wholeheartedly.

Suddenly the lights to his cell turned off, he heard a commotion outside in the asylum halls. He wasn't bound like he was before so he stood up from his cot. The door to his cell opened and closed abruptly. The darkness protected the intruder, but such skill and precision gave away their identity. Joker waited for the dim moonlight from outside aid his vision before he spoke. "Batman, what are you doing here?"

"I came to talk," spoke the bat from the shadows without any hesitation.

"What's there to talk about I said all I needed to say in that no…"

"I know you're lying to me Jack or should I call you the Joker now," he snapped.

"Darling I meant what I said I don't want to hurt you. That's why I decided to let my little bat fly free," he said in a fit of giggles.

"I don't understand. So you are going back, going back to crime, going back to the madness and death. What am I supposed to do? Just pretend like it never happened, pretend that there was nothing between us!?"

"YES! JUST FORGET IT ALL HAPPENED!" He slumped onto the ground and sat. The pale clown gripped his head and began crying, unable to hide his pain any longer. "Just forget it all Bats. Who were we trying to fool? Look at us, look at me! There is no escaping this, I cannot change. No matter what I do I can never get away from this horrid pale skin, these accursed bloody lips, this unnatural green hair, these damn haunting eyes. I can't escape any of it, I can't change I'm branded this way Bruce. Just accept it and move on."

Bruce stared at the broken man that sat before him. He wasn't as furious as he was before. He saw that Jack was desperately trying to escape his madness but found himself trapped. "Where is this coming from? Please tell me," he spoke softly as he rested a hand on the damaged clown's shoulder. The prince couldn't bear looking up to his knight's masked blue eyes. He could hear the concern in his voice. "Please Jack."

Jack began to remember his dream many nights ago. How he crossed the path of light for his Batman and only halfway across the dangerous bridge there was no sign of him. He walked on a razor thin path over the dark only for Bruce to leave him, in that instant he knew what that dream meant. "I'm afraid," he spoke softly.

"What did you say?"

"I'm afraid… that if I try to change and fail, that you won't be there for me. You'll leave me and I'll be alone again. I'll be alone just like always," whispered Jack as he finally met eyes with Bruce.

Jack was so utterly broken, Bruce knew this. He was in love with this damaged man and he still wanted to help him. "Jack, no matter what happens I won't leave you. I wasn't lying that night I said I loved you." He helped the jester up and dried his tears. Bruce held Jack in his arms, holding onto the image of the man he desperately wanted to help. "Whether you succeed or fail I will never leave you don't you see that?"

Jack held onto Bruce, he really missed this contact, this warmth they shared. "Bruce you know if I return to my ways as the Joker that we can't be together, it'll only cloud your mind. You won't be able to stop me," whispered Jack into the crook of Bruce's neck.

"Jack if you do become the Joker again I will stop you. I have a duty to uphold, but that won't change how I feel toward you, I'll still have hope that you can change and wait for that time."

A genuine smile began to spread across his red lips hearing those words. He looked deeply into the black clad bat's eyes. "We're not exactly the average couple Batsy. You know we can never truly be normal."

"True. But if there is anything I've learned from the Joker, it's that you don't have to be normal to be happy," smiled slightly Batman. He leaned in and left a sweet and loving kiss on Jack's lips. "Try to rehabilitate, with medicine and therapy, for me."

"Well since you got rid of old Sharpie and the boys that won't seem too hard now. So that's why you were busy with all those board meetings, turned off all the lights and cameras, all for me?" asked Jack with a coy smile.

"You didn't answer me."

"All right sweetheart, I'll try… for you," he smiled as he pecked the bat on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too Jack." They shared another kiss; it cemented their bond as Bruce and Jack. Everything that has happened between them recently changed them. Bruce was finally able to live and make decisions with confidence. Jack has found a connection with his former enemy and the will to try to change for said man. Both found a love that was their hope to end their long and bitter war and conclude it as a stalemate.

They separated; there was one last thing on the Batman's mind. "So, how did you exactly get into Arkham? Did you lie to me when you said there were only five escape routes?"

"I don't lie Batsy. But if you must know there is one path I didn't tell you about. The way only opens inward, one way in and no way out, so you don't have to worry about me or anybody escaping darling," he said with a laugh. Bruce joined in; they both laughed until the commotion from outside cut their laughter short. "You should get going before they find you in here with me."

"I'll be waiting for you," said Bruce as he caressed Jack's pale cheek.

"Either as Jack or the Joker, you'll always have someone to share a dance with," smiled Jack as he held the black leather hand in his. Batman slipped out of the room and Jack turned toward the widow. It was slightly higher than he but he reached for the bars and pulled himself up. It was still raining, but he was no longer in pain. A smile spread across those blood red lips and onto his white face as he saw his bat storm off in the rain, his cape violently whipping into the night. He eased himself back onto the floor and the lights turned on.

Dr. Leland and a few of the guards rushed in and were surprised to find him there. "Joker, I thought the blackout was your doing?" she questioned in disbelief.

"No doc, decided to take it easy. It's nice of you to think of me though," he joked.

They merely disregarded him and continued to search the premises. He couldn't help but to laugh softly. He continued to genuinely smile as he lay down to rest on the cot. Whether he healed and reformed himself as Jack or relapsed and reverted back to the Joker, he would always have his beloved bat by his side. Whether they would be cherished lovers or hated adversaries, they were locked forever in a dance where the music ran endlessly. He closed his eyes, finding respite come naturally to him. The rain no longer brought hurt, it brought peace and rest. He now felt he can smile happily and sincerely when it rains.


End file.
